If I were a sponge that you were to squeeze just about now, tears would be falling endlessly from that sponge.
It has been a tough and trying weekend.
Friday's weather that I blogged about started that deluge; the very close friend that I mentioned in my last post who popped in during the storm to use our telephone, lost his mother within a couple hours after he came here. When he stopped here, he'd been trying to make his way to his mother's to give her a painkiller because she was suffering the pain of end stages of cancer -- it was coming fast and strong.
He did eventually make it to his mother with his wife and son, and about 1/2 hour before Shabbos came in she took her last heavy breath. He'd sang "Shalom Aleichem" for her and "Aishet Chayil" and kissed her Gut Shabbos, and within minutes she was gone. Everybody has their own memorable version of Shabbos Nachamu; unfortunately, this was my friend's version.
We had my friend's son over Shabbos and much of the day today, until after the funeral. This little 4 1/2 year old boy had been told by his mother that his "Savta was now with Hashem" but we didn't know just how much he understood of that. And when the little boy said, "My savta and sabah live beside your savta," my youngest piped up: "NO, YOUR SAVTA'S DEAD!!" There was a long pause as my husband and I turned to each other, wondering what to say, but the little boy said it for us: "She's with Hashem now." And when my little one asked, "Why?" the boy said, "'Cause she's dead!"
I'm physically, mentally and emotionally sapped after a weekend of dealing with the ins and outs of curbing discussions around a curious child who'd lost his grandmother but didn't quite "get" what that meant; after dealing with all the mitzvot my family could do to help our friends prepare for shiva; after contacting back and forth other friends and acquaintances re. funeral preparations, shiva preparations, childcare preparations.
Today we tried to hit two birds with one stone: we wanted to fulfill the mitzva of "Bikur Cholim" (visiting the sick) and visited a sister-in-law's father, but he wasn't in his hospital room at the time and we couldn't find him on the premises of the nursing home/hospital. And then an hour later we went to a cemetery for a graveside service, and then to a shiva house.
Really, who should I be to complain? I thank G-d for my blessings, and will try to help my friend and his family as much as I and my family can. It is lovely to do mitzvot, but yes, they can and often do take their toll on people...
May we all share in simchas!