Karen, I know so well that double-edged sword: the more you are able to truly remember your Ariel, the deeper the pain of having lost him. But we'd far prefer to feel the pain and also have those memories of our precious children than bear the insidious numbness that robs us of all feeling. In my own experience, it was only when I began to feel that profound pain that I also regained my ability to feel true joy.

This past Rosh Hashana, as often happens in shul, I was flooded by memories of Timora. Seeing her oldest friend, whom we've known since she was a baby, unleashed a torrent of tears that took a very long time - much of the repetition of Musaf - to dry. But as I've written before, I welcome those tears.

It's hard to know what to wish you - wishing you more memories means wishing you more pain. But I think I can hope for both of you that your memories of Ariel will also bring you the deep joy having had him with you for the years he remained in this world, and that the joy will always be stronger than the sadness.

G'mar hatima tova.

i also ordered the mahzor. from what i've read here, i'm sure your son would have loved it. i hope it helped you cope on yom kippur.

Yes, Sara, you have described the paradox of memory very precisely. I do prefer the memories to the frustration of numbness, and the horrible fear of losing the totality of the experience of being Ariel's mother. Only another mother who has lost a child can really understand this dilemma. Thanks for your good wishes.

This was a very touching post.

Karen,
Thank you for such a beautiful post. In 6th grade Social Studies while tackling The Illiad, Mr. Kovolson said "No parent should ever have to bury a child". I've always remembered that moment as if time stood still maybe because his face was so very pained as he repeated it. I've been blessed with 2 sons and I cannot even imagine your grief.

Ariel raised lovely parents.

You know, I'm not a fan of our liturgy for any holiday including Shabbat, (and that goes for Reform and Conservative services too). And when it comes to Yizkor, this post seems to show how much more meaningful an open discussion in a Shul setting would be for so many more Jews, especially on Yom Kippur when we're there just about all day anyway.

I realize many Jews get a lot out of the silent prayer and listening to a Chazan, but I have to think that listening to stories like yours is more meaningful... and I understand Hebrew, (heaven knows what it's like for people who truly don't know what's being said or chanted all of the time).

I'm not saying this to upset people, and I also don't feel the need to destroy centuries of tradition, but the liturgy has been changed before and for the silliest of reasons, (for example the Reform and Conservative prayer books have played with the words a bit to reflect some societal changes, but they add nothing to the service in my opinion and contribute to the growing differences in the prayer rituals of the different Jewish groups out there). I just don't go for the "sit in shul, mumble a few prayers, and hope that works" approach. I realize it works for some people, but I strongly suspect that even most Orthodox Jews are simply going through the motions in Shul.

Jake, I'm actually grateful that there is a formal liturgy for the Yizkor. I don't find that I break at that point in the service. I guess because it is a bit contrived, or I carry the "missing Ariel chorus" with me constantly, it is not going to be evoked by reciting a codified prayer at a designated time. I just consider the Yizkor another way I can honor Ariel in a Halachic framework-that's it.

Lisa:

Thanks so much for the lovely thought.

I really respect that. It's great that there are so many things in the liturgy that Jews have said for centuries and continue to do today from Chareidi to Reform. I'm just a bigger fan of services like say, Shabbat Mincha, where prayer is mixed with study, real interaction, and of course, food.

Jake: It's true that people often go through the motions; however, the traditional belief is that even saying the words without feeling (and even without understanding) still constitutes an effective prayer and is a legitimate path to spiritual uplifting. Of course, everything is so much more effective when you feel and understand and really put yourself into the prayer and connect, but that's not always so easy.

Kishke:

Yes, I was taught that too... and I respect those who can push themselves to pray that way. I just can't. It just seems a waste not to bring in more learning, more discussion. I feel like I'm at a funeral all the time.

I don't know. Learning is learning and prayer is prayer. They're both important, but serve different purposes.