Nana's Funeral...

Today was one of those days where time seemed to slow down and my senses were heightened at each moment. The other 2 days (relatively recently) that were similar were my wedding day and the day Calanit was born (Erez was born at night, so it was different).

We took Calanit to the funeral and left Erez with a babysitter. It was the right call. She behaved like an angel and sat on my mom's lap for most of the service, helping with the consolation process.

We had prepped her well. In the morning, we had shown her pictures of Nana and reminded her of the good times she'd had. We also told her that today, "many people would be very sad and they would need a lot of big hugs and kisses." She did her part...and then some. I was so proud...and so emotional. The thought that my grandmother had the opportunity to meet my children, what a blessing. And I felt for my siblings not yet married, knowing the pain they must feel when thinking about that. My sister, Dina, who spoke beautifully at the service, alluded to that same point. I give Tamar so much credit for this.

Putting Calanit to bed tonight, I wanted to make sure she remembered her Nana.

"Do you remember playing blocks with Nana?"
"Yes."
"Do you know that Nana isn't coming back?"
"Yes, she went away. She is sick."
"Where did she go?"
"To the swimming pool and she's not coming back."

Well, who knows? It could be a swimming pool, right? Who's to say that Calanit's wrong?

My mom told a story that after her grandmother's funeral, her mother (Nana) said, "I thought that my life was over, but I realized, life goes on. You've got to go on." I think that Calanit's presence, in some way, represented that for all of us there.

The outpouring of support from friends and family was immense and intense.

Some of those I expected to be there, were. Some of those I completely did not expect to be there, were. Their love for us was palpable and it made me appreciate the role of those who come to comfort the mourners in a whole new light.

After carrying much of the load for the past 2 weeks, Tamar finally had an opportunity to mourn at the service. The speakers (4 including the Rabbi) did justice to Nana's personality and her determination to living a life with dignity, echoing many of the sentiments I expressed here.

As one of the pallbearers, I escorted Nana's casket out to the hearse and as we did, one of the most elegant snow flurry showers I had seen (or at least appreciated) began to fall on a still sunny day. It was an intriguing backdrop to the emotion of the day.

I rode with my siblings in a limousine to the cemetery in Southeast Washington for a short graveside ceremony in the very cold weather. Following doctor's orders, my grandfather (Poppy) was not present at the grave.

In an emotional farewell prior to that, he was pushed in a wheelchair next to the casket while his grandchildren and close relatives held it and given an opportunity to say his final goodbyes. He didn't say anything. What would he say anyway? He didn't have to. You just had to feel for the man who was now on Widower Day #2.

At the grave, following the service, most of the family remained to fulfill the mitzvah of filling in the dirt onto the entire grave. In the sense that you are brought into the world by this person, you are given the opportunity to take this person as far out of the world as possbile (or something along those lines.) It literally provides a sense of closure.

We then returned to Nana and Poppy's apartment for the beginning of the shiva mourning period. It is a chance to be with one another and to help console the mourners, but as my cousin Josh pointed out, it is, in some ways, a "celebration of Nana's life."

And so the "post-Nana" era begins in earnest.