Grieving and Living in the Light of the Yahrzeit Candle!

The Fourth Yahrzeit Illuminates the Darkness!

Last week, I shared a heartfelt moment with my friend Chris. I mentioned that it had been four years since my loss and that I was still standing, still here. The words tumbled out before I had a chance to weigh them, and as soon as they left my lips, I felt a twinge of discomfort. Calling my experience through grief merely “being alive” seemed to gloss over something much deeper—a richer truth that warranted more than just a surface-level description.

At sunset, standing before the yahrzeit candle, the anniversary of a death in my Jewish faith, I recognized how hollow that sentiment truly was. I have listened to my emotions, embraced them, and welcomed new friends and ideas. I have bravely stepped into a future that I sometimes feared —a future now filled with hope and inspiration.

Throughout this journey, I have poured my blood, sweat, tears, and limited resources into helping others. The support and connection I found in my community have been instrumental in my healing. While some friends believe I am a better person now, all I know is that I am not the same person I was four years ago.

I remember crying when I lit a yahrzeit candle for the first time in memory of my wife. Yet, I found comfort in the knowledge that not having met her would have brought me more pain than losing her after almost five decades. On the second anniversary of her passing, I returned home late from Washington, D.C., where I had participated in the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism’s Power of Purpose Campaign, a task I knew she would have wanted me to undertake. The candle lighting felt anticlimactic. Last year, the candle flickering in the darkness danced like a choreographed performance, reminiscent of the dots and dashes of Morse Code, sending me encoded memories like a secret message from the past.

This year, after completing a meaningful trifecta of love in tribute to my wife, I was uncertain about what to expect.

• The trifecta included participating in the Big Climb, a charity event for cancer research that involved climbing twenty-six stories just two days after what would have been her birthday.
• I also organized a community packing event with Bridges and Calvary Lutheran Church in Cranford for our unhoused neighbors on the fourth anniversary of her passing, and
• I walked for 1,461 consecutive days, marking the fourth anniversary of her funeral. These acts were about remembering my wife and spreading love and kindness in the world, which she always believed in.

As I recited the prayers and lit my Yahrzeit Memorial Lamp, the flame flickering in the darkness of my home resembled a captivating indoor laser show, illuminating the space and chasing away the shadows. It served as a luminous reminder that the warmth of a first kiss holds more significance than any farewell. Love, in its purest form, is a powerful and transformative energy that transcends the boundaries of life and death, guiding me through the darkest moments of grief. Although our loved ones may be physically absent, it is comforting to know they continue to live on in the love we share, the memories we cherish, and the new experiences we create.

Shalom, Love, and Hope! Amen!