A friend from my synagogue suffered a loss recently and, of course, I needed to go to her house for a Shiva visit. Traditionally, Shiva (which means “seven” in Hebrew) is the seven days of mourning after the funeral, when people bring food to the mourner’s home and stay for services so the mourner won’t have to leave their house in order to say the Mourner’s Kaddish in community. In our progressive synagogue the amount of time spent in Shiva is usually shorter, often only one or two days, because seven days of sitting is a lot, and because the short time period makes it easier to be sure the house will be full of guests each night, instead of having nights when no one but the rabbi shows up.
Shiva visits make me anxious though, especially if I get there too long before the evening service, and have a lot of free time to sit around and chat with the other visitors while waiting for a chance to speak to the mourners. There are people who are good at these sorts of things: people who know what food to bring, or if they should even bring food at all, and know what to say to the mourner, and where to sit, and how to offer help, and how to talk to whoever else is around. That is not me.
I have social anxiety (along with Generalized Anxiety and Panic Disorder and a few hundred other things), so the idea of walking into a private house, full of mostly strangers, is already a big deal. There are also, usually, a lot of family members I don’t know, and friends and neighbors I’ve never met, and fellow congregants who I may have seen once or twice before, and I’m supposed to be able to navigate through the crowd, making polite conversation, until I reach the mourner to say, what? “I’m so sorry for your loss” is the most common and reliable thing to say, and I am sorry and it is a loss. But I tend to feel like I should suddenly be the most outgoing person on the planet, and ease the mourner’s grief in some brilliant way, and offer insight and comfort and support and …. I expect a lot of myself. I think that’s part of why being a social worker didn’t fit me. I often got home at the end of the day of field work with a long list of things I hadn’t accomplished, or didn’t understand, or couldn’t manage, or didn’t have time to do, and the guilt was unbearable.
Given all of that, I felt a strong impulse to skip this Shiva visit altogether; to pull the covers over my head and pretend it wasn’t happening and that no one would miss me. And the fact is, no one would have criticized me, or even commented, if I hadn’t gone, but I knew I would feel awful, so I had to go.
To make the visit more manageable I went as close as possible to the start of the evening service, to limit the chat time. The prayer service at Shiva is pretty short and is mostly there to facilitate the saying of the Mourner’s Kaddish, but even those few familiar prayers can be comforting in the midst of all of that grief and pain.
In a regular service, at my synagogue, the Mourner’s Kaddish is said by those who are in mourning, or remembering a loss, and only the mourners will stand, but at Shiva we all stand, and we focus our attention on these particular mourners, in this particular house, rather than on mourners in general.
I like that idea, because then, at least for the first week of mourning, you can think only of your own pain and loss, and know that others are thinking of you and praying with you; and only after that week do you go back to seeing yourself as part of the community of mourners, all mourning different losses.
In the end, the Shiva visit went fine. The mourner hugged me as soon as I arrived, and when I asked about her loss she was able to tell me, and those around us, about the last days of her loved one’s life. She did all of the work; I just showed up, sat down, and listened. And I realized that I was proud of myself for just showing up. I didn’t change the world with the few words I said, but I was there for her and I said and did what I could. And that felt good.
If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my Young Adult novel, Yeshiva Girl, on Amazon. And if you feel called to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.
Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?
rachelmankowitz 
Congratulations on overcoming your misgivings and triumphing!
Thank you!
Christian wakes (or “visitation” as my denomination calls them) are equally awkward, especially if they take place at the funeral home before the service. When my mother died, my father organized her funeral down to the last detail, including several meals for visiting relatives and friends. But one of the smartest things we did was my idea: for the reception after the memorial service (in the church hall, with sandwiches and cookies prepared by the Presbyterian Women), I made nametags for all the visiting relatives, with their name and relationship to my mother (“Suzanne Barnhill, daughter,” etc.). People said they really appreciated this. So often when you attend a funeral of someone you knew, you don’t know any of their family, and, even if they introduce themselves, it can be hard.
I love that idea!
I’m glad you overruled your reticence about going. Basically, participating in community involves listening. The listening is what’s really profound.
It really is!
It is a very big deal to show up and listen. 💟
Thank you!
So relatable Rachel. I also have social anxiety and probably autism, and it’s really hard for me to join unscripted conversation (whereas scripted meaning something like going to a work meeting). When my friend Scott died a few years back, I skipped the service because I couldn’t stand the thought of running into so many old friends and having to converse with each of them. I’m glad Shiva went well and you felt comfortable while you were there. I’m sure your success will help you go to the next one. Peace.
Thank you! I hope so!
I think you did a good thing going to this Shiva even though you were anxious about it. To give the mourner a chance to speak about the person they had lost is important and an essential part of the mourning process. Good for you for overcoming your anxiety.
Thank you!
I also had social anxiety so debilitating I could not eat in front of people. I could not even speak about anything personal. I could only give short answers or yes and no. Everyday I prayed to be released from it. It was confidence we all have to find in ourselves. Our inner voice can be so negative but it isn’t the truth about ourselves and we have to stop believing it. God says the opposite. You are His love and He wants you to start believing it🙏
Thank you!
Showing up is the biggest deal. You made that person feel loved. That is a great thing you did, Rachel.
I hope so. Thank you!
When we face our fears or stresses, things have a way of working out. Glad they worked out for you Rachel. Have a great weekend. Allan
Thank you!!!
Aw Rachel. You have no idea the comfort I got from your post. I am about to go to a funeral home tomorrow to pray with my cousin who has just lost his mother. To say I’m anxious would be an understatement. I’m sick with anxiety. I have barely had a rest from anxiety inducing events this past week or so and I’ve been sick with my hormones as well. So to read this; it was meant to be. I could relate to everything you said so now I am hoping that my outcome will be even half as positive. Thank you so much. Quite literally you have reached a person across the globe, from a different faith and in being so open you have done so much more than your actions that one day. Thank you and bless you 🙏
Thank you so much!!!
DO YOU REMEMBER READING THIS POST. We are fortunate to at least have a compassionate man in Washington, after four years to that lying hating man there and all of the bad news, it is good to have the calmness of a man who loves all Americans~!
I posted this about three years ago when he was running for president and actually feel more today that we need him as our Mensch. You may need to cut and post the url, but it is important enough that if you have a problem I can cut and paste it online.
https://mcouvillion.wordpress.com/2020/07/04/our-mensch/
I resolved to go to just one more funeral in my life: my own! I don’t need to see the body of the loved one, all prettied up and made to “look just like she/he’s alive” by the funeral director and his staff. I find it too much like taxidermy!
Funerals where the body was cremated are tolerable, yet when it is someone in the family, I prefer to keep the service to the family alone. I don’t care to have an emotional time with a sanctuary full of people who often are people I don’t know well but were known to the “loved one”.
At Traditional Jewish funerals there’s never an open casket, so the first time I saw a body at a funeral it really freaked me out.
Me, too. What really upset me, though, was I wasn’t sked if I wanted to view my grandmother’s body. The funeral director just assumed the family wanted to view her and put me in the position of making a scene if I didn’t trot by.
Eek!
Sometimes showing up and listening are the most important and most heartfelt things we can do.
It’s amazing how simple and profound that role of listener is.
I can really understand how the Shiva can be scary especially with anxieties. However, if you are able to show up, I think it doesn’t matter much what you say or do or bring, just showing up is 99% of what matters.
I hope so!
Hi! So glad you went and were able to be there for her in her time of loss and grief. xoxo
Me too!
I was always taught that with shiva, one is supposed to let the mourner lead the conversation (or even the decision to have a conversation – I went to one shiva house where we all deliberately sat in awkward silence because the mourners didn’t want to talk). I’ve seen incredible displays of compassion and coming together at shiva, and I’ve also seen some incredible displays of rudeness. Like I recall one shiva house where a mourner was telling a story about his recently deceased father’s experience during a bad storm in our area – it was really a story about his father’s stubbornness and resourcefulness during the storm. And some woman who came to shiva started loudly insisting that her experience during the storm was so much worse. We were all like,” lady shut up! This isn’t about you!” Shiva really is just about showing up. It’s meant to be awkward and difficult because it is. Sounds like your friend really appreciated your attendance.
I hope so.
You see, nothing like what you feared. Well done for going and it’s obvious your presence was much appreciated.
Thank you!
Hi Rachel,
Well done. I wouldn’t be able to do it. I’d feel awkward and out of place.
It’s really hard, but worth the effort.
Congrats on overriding your anxiety and making the decision to attend for the mourner’s benefit. I hope that they “happy ending” of this story is one you’ll remember the next time you’re feeling anxious and are convinced you’ll have a horrible experience!
Me too! Thank you!
Perhaps having someone to go with to Shiva would help so you don’t have to walk in alone or start a conversation. I agree with all the comments about the importance of showing up; presence is key during times of loss.
I wish I could bring Ellie with me.
One of my friends spent the week after her mother’s death without bathing or washing her hair as part of the Jewish mourning ritual. That would be very tough these days.
It depends on the community. If everyone around you follows the same custom it’s manageable.
In Scotland in the 1960s and before we only had baths once a week and washed our hair every two weeks. I’ve gotten so soft since then!
Ha!
For you to be there in person for the mourner, and giving her your time and attention and listening to her when you didn’t have to (and while being aware of your anxiety and more reasons to not go for a visit) helps a lot. As underrated forms of relief, doing these things can make the mourner feel less alone and less distressed. And despite Shiva seeming scary and not easy, you did these things. I’m proud of you Rachel.
Thank you so much!
Always written so well, and from the bottom of your heart! Thanks so much, Rachel!
Thank you!!!
Showing up and listening is exactly what is needed. There are no adequate words in the face of grief; being present says “I care” in a way that nothing else can.
I hope so!
You are doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing, writing. And you do it very well!!
Thank you so much!
You are really onto something there. Just being there, available, listening with an understanding and sympathetic ear, is so often all that is needed.
I hope so.
Oh I so understand your feelings on this one – the ‘sorry for your loss’. We’ve all been there, desperately casting around to find something else to say. It’s because we are used to being able to fix things, or trying to fix things. And death is one thing we absolutely can’t ‘fix’. Well done though you were amazing and won over your fear.
Thank you!
That was nice of you to attend the shiva. They are painful like getting dental work. Instead of saying the usual “sorry for your loss” I say may you find comfort from your memories.
Good idea!
I understand how you feel; such situations are awkward for me too. I’m glad it went well.
Thank you!
I am glad the person sitting shiva made you so comfortable- I also don’t like to go, but unfortunately the more I have had to go the less uncomfortable I am. It is such a comfort to the ones sitting.
I hope so.
Rachel, showing up is important even when it’s hard. You can do hard things! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼
My sister lost her first husband in an accident after 11 months of marriage. We were all in disbelief and I learned a lot about grief and showing up watching her go through the process. She attended funerals of people that in my opinion were very peripheral to her life. She knew how much each and every one of the people who came to see her and shared a story or listened meant in the days and weeks following the loss. Over time, I understood but it took me a while. There’s a “This I Believe” essay on NPR (you can find it on the NPR website) titled Always Go to the Funeral. It’s worth the 4 minutes.
I just listened to the essay, and my favorite part is where the mother of her teacher still remembers her twenty years later from some small thing she said at the calling hours for her daughter. I love that even saying the wrong thing, or the inadequate thing, can be kind.
I remember the first time I listened to this essay and so many others in this series. The small take away lessons from real people that I believe have made me a better, more caring person. Thanks for listening.
So glad you went. Sometimes we don’t need to be brilliant or insightful or perfect. Sometimes we just need to be there for the other person. May your friend’s memory be a blessing and an inspiration.
I hope so!
Sometimes all God requires is for us to show up. Good for you! God bless you.
Thank you!
I really like your comment..Wonderful!!! And, God bless you too!!! 🙂
In my case , a scheduled Shiva is going to take place before my loved one has died. As you expressed in your experience above, I ‘m similarly feeling somewhat awkward the entire experience and desire it to be as informal as possible. Thanks for the warning.
I hope you receive as much genuine comfort and support as possible.
The Shiva will not be about the food but for spiritual uplift reasons.
Wonderful to see all those different mushrooms and how bountiful your life is to see all the glory of God’s garden !!! : ) Mom used to say “You are closer to God’s heart in a garden than anyplace else on earth. ” I used to recite that as I was walking in the backyard seeing all the plants and my very own garden ..planted strawberries and one onion. The onion survived, You know she came from farming.