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.