Our grandson, age 19, was killed in an automobile accident on a Shabbat morning in September. How could his parents, we his grandparents, the family celebrate the Shabbat in its proper spirit when the day evoked only painful reminders of the loss that had been suffered?
Knowing that Jewish tradition insists that mourning practices should be suspended on the Shabbat and holidays, we learned that grieving hearts cannot be controlled by tradition. A way had to be found to celebrate Shabbat if not with rest and joy, then at least with rest and reflection.
Each Friday evening has now become the time when many of our family gather together for dinner. It is a time when the hearts of the remaining children are more significantly turned to the parents and the hearts of the parents turned to the children.
The familiar rituals of Shabbat have taken on a new meaning especially when the kiddush is chanted using our grandson’s silver kiddush cup, which he received upon being confirmed.
The ceremony of candlelighting, reciting the motzi, chanting the grace after the meal are now done with a new sensitive awareness. Family grief has introduced a poignancy to the Shabbat ritual that it never had before. Within the consoling warmth of the family, with the form set by the Shabbat ritual, with meaningful words of Torah subtly introduced, the Shabbat has now become a time for gradual healing, a weekly reminder of the ultimate source of our healing.
The holiness of the Shabbat has helped to sustain our faith amidst our grief.