My mom, Zena Jay, Tzipporah Bat Shlomo Ha-Levi v' Sara, passed early in the morning of 20 Kislev, 5778.   Every 20th of Kislev, on the night before, I will light a Yahrtzeit candle to mark this date. Because she was buried on the 22nd of Kislev, and the ritual mourning period for a parent is a year, this year the Yahrtzeit will be observed on the 22nd. This date corresponds to November 30, 2018 on the secular calendar. Thus, as I am writing this, I am looking at the first Yahrtzeit candle that I will be lighting in mom's memory. Oy.

 

The year of mourning forces us to mark many firsts. A birthday, an anniversary, Hanukkah, Tu B'Shvat, Purim, Passover, Shavuot, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Simchat Torah. These all becomes firsts "without". We had the unveiling on the Friday of Thanksgiving weekend so, even though this was the first Thanksgiving without mom, she was there.

 

The internal voice that frequently calls out, "I need to call mom to tell her about this, or that", continues. The desire for one more conversation, for one more pearl of wisdom, for one more: "Love you", is still there.

 

But, it is not all sadness. There are many, many good memories that bring warmth and even joy. I often recall vacation moments, lifecycle moments, and holiday moments. But, for me, the most special recollections seem to revolve around quiet times alone with my mom; The times we sat and had a cup of coffee and had nice conversations about random topics. The memories become the blessing.

 

I think one lesson I take from this year of mourning is that, as parents, and grandparents, we need to be cognizant of making these memories. We need to be memory builders. So, continue to spend quality time with your children and grandchildren. Moments will be recalled, and recalled, and recalled. And they are as real as when they first occurred.

 

Last year, Hanukkah began as we were sitting Shiva. So during Shiva, in the Shiva house, we actually lit Hanukkah candles. It might seem odd, eerie, weird, and counter-intuitive to light a Hanukia in a Shiva house, but it wasn't. It was actually comforting. There was something about those Hanukkah lights that was mesmerizing and calming even as they burned next to the 7-day candle.

 

So here is lesson two. The memory of my mom, or all of our lost loved ones, are encapsulated in the glow of the candle's flame. Certainly we see them in the Yahrtzeit candle, but they are also in our Shabbat candles and in the candles of our Hanukkah Menorahs.

 

Like our loved ones, though the candle does not last forever, while it is lit, it brings warmth and, literally makes the world a little brighter. The menorah that each of us will be lighting for 8 days beginning on Sunday evening, contains lights to brighten the world. Those candles may not last forever, but each night they become brighter by one candle. And each night they the world is lit just a bit more intensely.

 

Finally, here is lesson three. Take note of the Shamash candle this year as you light the other candles with it. The Shamash passes its light to the next candle but its light is not diminished. Indeed, together they flare to make a brighter light. And, when separated, its light continues on its own and in the other candle. Our loved ones are the Shamash.   They pass their light to us and we, in turn, will pass our light on to our children and grandchildren. And we will pass it to others. A continuously shared candle need never go out.

 

Our tradition tells us that we are to be a light unto the nations. We should start by being a light to those we love.

 

Accept the light, Be the light, Share the light, and Strengthen the light.

 

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Urim Sameach (Happy Festival of Lights) -

 

Rabbi Michael S. Jay