What a lovely month this has been on our mini-sabbatical in Scottsdale, though tinged by the sadness of losing our “machateinista”, Elena Goldstein, who succumbed to leukemia yesterday in the early morning hours of Shabbat.
I paid a silent tribute to her during the hours of her funeral today by taking a ride over to the Chabad of Scottsdale, going into their gift store and thinking about what a gift it has been to have Elena and Joe as our daughter’s in-laws.
I thought about how hard it must be for a husband to re-define life in his wife’s absence. For sons to adjust to the loss of a selfless and dedicated mother. For granddaughters to see a grandmother slip away too soon to have walked down their aisles or celebrate their career and their own family choices. And then I found two books whose covers pictorially captured the essence of the moment.
Chabad is an outpost, and I never much related to their significance, but this afternoon they helped to create a cross-country spiritual link to the pain of loss and celebration of a life well lived.