Today is Yom Ha’Shoah - Holocaust Remebrance Day, which commemorates the lives and heroism of those who perished in the Holocaust. I would be remiss to let the day go by without the appropriate recognition.
Last Sunday, we attended the annual commemoration held at Temple Emanu-El in New York. My mother was invited to give the remarks reserved for a Holocaust survivor. Unfortunately, she was not feeling well and was not able to attend. My sister did a remarkable job in conveying my mother’s thoughts.
My mother was not the only one who was missed that day. Every year fewer of the survivors are present. Every year there are fewer women to light each of thirty-six memorial candles. Friends of my parents, who I was accustomed to seeing, are no longer there.
I had prayed for a very special day. My vision was that there would be four generations -- from my mother to her great-grandson -- in the sanctuary at Temple Emanu-El. It was not to be.
The recognition of the inevitability of the passage of time and its natural consequences does not make acceptance any easier.