A Death in the Family

Frank's cousin, Maya Engel, died last Tuesday. Frank and I went to the hospital on the day that she died and were with the family. Frank's father had four younger brothers. All of them escaped Nazi Germany, one to Australia, two to the United States, and one to what was then called Palestine. Uncle Erich and Aunt Ilse came here when their first daughter, Anne (Chana) was 2 1/2 and Ilse was pregnant with Maya. Maya was 69 when she died last week.

She died in Bellinson Hospital, which in itself is worth describing to you. It is a huge hospital; I worked there when I lived here in the '80's and I couldn't believe the difference. When I was here I worked in a very small building behind the main hospital; now the campus is a modern medical complex, much of which has been built through the donations of wealthy Jews from all over the world. The hospital itself is gorgeous, very open in design, decorated with beautiful art, and very light. It really is a visual pleasure. This was surprising to me, since most hospitals that I have been in here are quite the opposite.

Maya died in the mid-afternoon. Her death was expected, but the onset of her illness was quite sudden and no one knew how ill she was until three weeks before she died. Everyone when talking about her called her an "isha meyuchedit," a special woman. After her husband died 10 years go she started a small antique business in her garage. People would bring her old treasures and she would appraise them and buy them and then sell them to other customers who would come. People loved her. She had extraordinary taste; her home is decorated top to bottom with beautiful things. She was generous beyond generous. Once I admired some beaded bracelets that she was wearing and she immediately took them off and gave them to me. No amount of protesting on my part did any good. She and her sister Chana were exceptionally close. All the women in the family talk to one another on the phone many times a week. Both Frank and I loved her very much.

I would like to tell you something about Jewish and Israeli customs around death and dying. Even though these customs are observed in the US, here the process is somewhat different. I hope that what follows will be interesting to both Jews and people who are not Jewish.

After someone dies in hospital the body is removed to the hospital morgue and the Chevra Kadisha is informed. The Chevra Kadisha is a group of religious men who are responsible for seeing that all Jewish customs around death and burial are carried out faithfully according to Jewish law. They will prepare the body for burial, washing it and dressing it in white muslin burial shrouds. Then they will sit with the body every minute until burial. This in the United States too; in our North Carolina community each synagogue has a Chevra Kadisha (men who deal with males and women who deal with females) and they recruit synagoge members to sit all night with the body until the burial.

On the day of the death the family writes a notice of the death and time of the funeral, which is published in the local newspapers. The picture at the top of this posting is the notice of Maya's death. In the newspapers there is a page of such notices every day. People also post the notices in doorways and on lamp posts in neighborhoods to inform people of the death. The funeral, in Jewish tradition, should be on the day that the death occurred. However, sometimes if the death is late in the day the burial will be on the following morning.

At the cemetery people gather at the gate. Then the Chevra Kadisha carries the body in on a stretcher, covered with a large velvet cloth. In Israel coffins are not used except in cases where the death has been violent, such as in war or a traffic accident, and then a plain wooden coffin is used. In Jewish tradition it is very important that all the body parts be included in the burial, so if the body is torn then a coffin is necessary. At the entrance there is a kind of hall -- a cement structure quite open with a roof. There are no chairs. The body is brought into this structure and placed on a table and people give eulogies and offer prayers. Then the Chevra Kadisha carries the body on the litter to the grave and the people follow in procession.

At the grave one of the members of the Chevra Kadisha is standing in the grave to receive the body which is tipped into the grave from the litter. They cover the body with concrete slabs and then the members of the Chevra Kadisha fill in the grave. The service leader (a member of the Chevra Kadisha) announced that it was the time to put flowers on the grave and people covered the raw earth with bouquets. Later, up until 11 months later, a stone will be erected. In Israel the stone usually is set on the 30th day after burial.

The family then goes home where someone has prepared a meal of consolation. This meal is very simple -- hard boiled eggs, olives, and crackers. This day also marks the first day of shiva, the seven day period of mourning following a death. On these days the family sits together and people come to the house to comfort them. Our family sat in Maya's home, all of us together. A very wonderful woman who worked with Maya prepared meals for the family every day. People brought cakes and fruit and people came throughout the week to be with the family. On Friday they sat only half a day, and not at all on Shabbat. Tomorrow, Tuesday, will be the last day, and then only in the morning.

I am always impressed by how sensible these customs are. By the end of a week when others have taken care of the mourners and the mourners have been surrounded by friends from near and far, people are ready to "return to life," as they say here. Maya's family is not at all religious, like the majority of Israelis. And yet the Jewish customs are followed and they bring comfort. Frank and I traveled to Herzliya almost every day to be with the family. Eva, Frank's sister, came from the US. Frank and Eva had only three cousins in the world and now there are but two. It was an extraordinary week. May Maya's memory be blessed.

Love,
Pat