A Yizkor Kavannah For The Ambivalent

Bless Yah, Ruach Ha Olam,
Breathing us in and breathing us out.

Each loss breaks a pattern.

We pray and remember.

God of our immigrant grandparents,
God of our wandering children,
God of the community, 
God who is each person's, alone,

God who knew our parents, 
God who knows our deaths.

We pray and remember.

Daddy God of our childhood faith,
Nonexistent God of our young skepticism,                             

Complicated God-ness of our adult searching,

Unknowable God of the mystics,
Rational God of the philosophers,
Soothing God of our old age,
Listening God of our last words,

We pray and remember.

Bless Yah, Ruach Ha Olam,
Breathing us in and breathing us out.

Imagining us,

Comforting us,
Singing us,

We pray and remember.

We remember them:

Our Teachers and Leaders,

Our Artists and Entertainers,

Our Enemies and Rivals,

Our Friends and Companions,

Our Aunts and Uncles and Cousins,

Our Husbands and Wives and Partners,

Our Children and Siblings,
Our Parents and Grandparents.

Each loss breaks a pattern,
Whether good or bad.
How can we ever forgive them for leaving us?

We remember them

Because they gave us to ourselves,

Whether we liked it or not.

We remember them

Because we loved each other,

Except when we didn’t.

And we remember

Because, well,
That is our job.

Every loss breaks a pattern,
Whether good or bad.

How can we ever forgive them for knowing us so well?

We pray

And we give thanks for the ancient traditions, 

Telling the story even when we can’t. 

We pray and place ourselves in front of the fear,

We place ourselves in front of the anger,

We place ourselves in front of the grief,

We pray and we hope for delight in the memories

And music when there cannot be joy

And repair when the patterns break.

Bless Yah, breathing in,

Praying with us because we are alone.

Bless Yah, breathing out,

Remembering us when we cannot.

Amen