Sitting shiv'a

Most of what I know about Christian burial rituals comes from the excellent tv series "William and Mary" whose three series have been broadcast here. The eponymous William is an undertaker, and whilst the series starts with the awkward problem of how an undertaker can get a date, it shortly moves on to showing a variety of funerals. The most striking thing for me was that the funeral can take place whenever the mourners so desire, and in one case the funeral is held at least a week after the death.

Such is not the Jewish tradition (and neither the Islamic, I believe). No, we bury the dead (no cremation) as soon as is possible. Sometimes a funeral will be delayed for a few days if a relative has to return home from overseas, but generally speaking a funeral is held either the same day of the death or the day after (Saturdays and holidays excluded, of course). After the funeral service, a family will sit shiv'a (seven) - for seven days (not including Saturday, again), the close family will sit at home, and receive all the well wishers. For the family, it's a chance to remember the dead and to come to terms with the loss of a loved one. For well wishers, it's a chance to pay one's respects properly (especially if one wasn't able to come to the funeral) and also a chance to pay tribute to the departed one (sorry for the euphemism).

The only catch with the above system is Saturdays and holidays. Whilst the shiv'a is only suspended on a Saturday and continues on the Sunday, a holiday brings the shiv'a to an early end, and should a funeral be held during the interim days of a holiday (and Judaism has two such seven day holidays), then no shiv'a is sat whatsoever. This is because a festival takes priority over mourning.

The reason for all the above will shortly become clear. Tomorrow night is the first night of Passover, and for seven days we will celebrate the festival of freedom. My mother died four years ago on the first day of Passover. Since then, the festival has been tainted for me. The timing this year is the same as it was then: Wednesday first night, Thursday national holiday, Friday short day, Saturday. We could have held the funeral on the following Sunday, but decided to have it at short notice on the Friday afternoon. As the funeral was held during the Passover holiday, there were no words said at the burial (save the words of the service itself), and we didn't officially sit shiv'a.

To make things worse, both my wife's family and some of my distant cousins have the 'Cohen' surname, and a Cohen is not supposed to enter a graveyard (unless to attend the funeral or memorial service of one's parents, siblings or children), so there weren't even any family members present at my mother's funeral.

One of the worst moments of my life was having to telephone people to tell them that my mother had died and to invite them to the funeral. But I had it comparatively easy compared to my brothers in law when my father in law died. As my mother died in hospital, all I had to do was give the death certificate to some official in the hospital; we have a graveyard in the kibbutz and someone arranged for the body to be brought from the hospital to the graveyard. My brothers in law had to deal with the release of the body, acquire a burial plot and arrange for transport, as well as nominally having to arrange a meal for the mourners after the service. All of this is exceeding strange at the best of times and bewildering at a time of mourning when all one wants to do is close one's eyes and wish it all to disappear. This is the job that William is so good at.

Yesterday I came home to find my wife talking on the telephone. It transpired that one of my few remaining aunts (she was married to a cousin of my mother, so she's not really my aunt) had died after a long illness. As her family is very religious, they were having the funeral the same day - ie yesterday - at 8pm (imagine William doing a funeral at that time!). And because tomorrow evening is the first night of Passover, they will be sitting shiv'a only today and maybe tomorrow morning. I imagine that I'll send the son a letter of condolence.

As my father said at the time, try not to die just before or during a festival. It makes things so much harder for the family.