Yom HaShoah

I went with a religious school class to the Holocaust Center of Northern California (http://www.hcnc.org/) last week. The center is more a library then a museum. The current exhibit of letters from that era was both touching and poignant. A woman who is a refugee told us her story of being a twelve-year-old in Vienna when the Nazis rolled in, and how she was given away by her mother to a family in England. She crossed the Atlantic on a troopship during the war to be reunited with her family in New York.

These holocaust related experiences always evoke strong reactions in me.

My first reaction is always a vacillation between extreme anger and extreme sadness. Part of me wants to seek vengeance against those whose cruelty was almost unimaginable. Another part of me just wants to sit quietly and cry for those whose lives were changed so radically, or taken, for no reason other then their existence.

The living memory of the holocaust is leaving us rapidly due to the aging process. It is both happy and sad to witness those who often committed acts of heroism, ending their existence in such an ordinary manner. I am forever thankful that many of the survivors and refugees live seemingly normal lives. They are no longer called upon to perform heroic acts of survival. Somehow, however, it seems they should be given “extra credit” for what they have been through. Somehow its even better that they are not required to fight against those who wish an unnatural end to their existence.

Those of living memory remind us how ordinary the victims were. It is not the duty of everyone to become a hero (and we only hear from those who survived.) It is the right of all peoples to live in peace and attempt to live their lives to the best of their abilities. We honor, as we should, heroism but we cannot forget that this heroism was forced on them. Most would have been perfectly happy to live ordinary lives.

We remember these events in the next few weeks. There is the traditional remembrance at Passover as we discuss slavery and liberation. Communitywide Yom HaShoah (holocaust memorial) observances will be held at Mosaic Law the evening of April 30 from 7:00 pm to 9:00 pm.

Never forget, and never again.

A Member's Contribution to this Blog

So, I just got back to town from my grandmother’s funeral in Florida. It was hard. It was sad. It was the hardest and saddest thing I have had to do in a very long time, maybe ever. I came back heart-broken. I’m still very saddened about the whole thing. It’s not that Nana was young and healthy; she wasn’t. She was 88 years old and had congestive heart failure. It was silly to hope that she’d always be there. She was my last remaining grand-parent. I just didn’t expect her to ever be gone. We were not incredibly close. And yet, I can’t imagine my life without her. She always accepted me for who I was. Always. Unconditionally. Without fail. I returned to Sacramento in time for the Purim festivities on Thursday night. I think I was kind of shell shocked. But, in my dazed, confused, sleep deprived, jet lagged, and seriously emotional state, even I could recognize that this year’s Purimspiel was the best one yet. Then, the following night was Shabbat. I went to services, knowing that I was going to see my Nana’s name missing from the healing list. When the list was read aloud during services, I cried. Then, later in the service, the names of the recently deceased were read aloud. Rabbi Alfi publicly welcomed me back to the congregation after my loss. I cried again. (I am not a crier, for the most part, especially not in public.) Then, an amazing thing happened after the service ended. A ton of folks came up to me and offered their condolences and support. I mean, not just a couple of people, not just the folks I hung out with, not people doing it for the sake of appearances. In the sanctuary, in the lobby outside of the sanctuary, and at the oneg, people from the congregation kept coming up to me and saying how sorry they were for my loss, asking me about my Nana, offering comfort and caring, kindness and understanding. I’m at a bit of a loss to express how much this meant to me so I thought I’d post something here to try to share how much this congregation means to me. I don’t think I can do it justice.