Mourning After Kaddish

Dear Rabbi Fried,

I have recently completed the year of mourning and kaddish for my father, and am left with a profound feeling of emptiness now that it’s finished. I know I can no longer say kaddish, but is there anything more that I can do or is that it?


Dear Morris,

From experience, I know exactly how you feel. Saying kaddish after a loved one passes keeps a feeling of ongoing connection. When it ends, there’s an overwhelming feeling of disconnect, like the emptiness you expressed. On one hand we, as Jews, believe that mourning should not go on forever. We have a year to mourn but we accept G-d’s will and move onward with our lives. On the other hand, we yearn to remain connected in some way. For many, the once-a-year connection of the yahrtzeit doesn’t seem enough and desire a more ongoing connection than that. 

One special way to maintain that connection is through the study of Mishnah. For millennia, Jews have remembered their loved ones through study of Mishnah, especially within the 30 days of the loss, and throughout the first year. The letters which spell Mishnah in Hebrew: “Mem Shin Nun Hey,” are the same letters, when switching the order, which spell the word “Neshama,” or soul. This is because the Mishnah has a very special connection to the soul, and greatly elevates the soul of both the learner and the one learned for, or in memory of. 

By studying the Mishnah every day in your father’s memory you can maintain a very special and meaningful connection. Before the studying you can say “this study should serve as an ‘iluy nishmas’ or to elevate the soul of your father” (Hebrew name son of his father’s Hebrew name). This can be done forever. 

To understand a bit deeper, the Talmud says “bra kara d’avuhun,” or the son (or daughter) is a “leg of the father.” This statement has certain legal ramifications, but for our purposes we can focus on the terminology of a “leg” of the father. The reason the rabbis used this term is to hint that the father, or mother, continue to “walk” in this world, even after they have left it, through the mitzvos performed by the children and grandchildren they left behind. 

This concept is punctuated by an emotional story once told by a woman, Leah, at a seminar in Israel. Leah and her husband, secular Israelis, were sent with their young family to New York to serve at the Israeli consulate. During a rainstorm in New York, their car slid off the road and down the mountain, landing on a large rock. Leah, thrown from the car next to her husband, was awoken by screams of “Ima!” from her 3 children still in the car, precariously teetering on the rock. The older two were able to climb out the broken window, but the baby was belted in on the far side of the car; she was afraid to reach in lest the car fall off the rock. Leah closed her eyes and cried “dear G-d, please give me my baby,” and when she opened her eyes, somehow the baby was miraculously in her hands. She got down and again fainted. 

Leah woke up in a hospital, hearing that her husband didn’t make it. She kept going over and over again in her mind how the baby got into her hands, and all she could come up with was that it was a miracle. Leah resolved at that moment to return to Israel and enroll her children in a religious school to thank G-d for that miracle. 

The younger children had no problem adapting to the new school. The older boy, Itzik, however, was a different story. His 4th grade class was far along in the study of Mishnah, something he had never done before. A big test was coming and every day, as the test got closer, he made more trouble about going to school. Leah’s saying “the Rabbi understands, you’re new at it” didn’t help; after all he was a kid and embarrassed. The day of the test finally arrived, and Leah dreaded that fight. Itzik came out of his room with a smile and said, bye Ima! She asked where are you going?! He said, to school! But today’s the big test! I know, I’m going to do great! But how do you suddenly know it?! Itzik replied, “last night while I was sleeping I was walking down a long road, and I saw Aba. He hugged me and I told him I’m in a new school where they study Mishnah. He said ‘I know, the day you went into that school, they put me into the Garden of Eden, and the Mishnah you’re learning is what they teach me there.’ I said, Aba if you know it, could you teach me? He said sure, and we sat down next to the road and he taught me.” Leah, teary eyed, ended the story by saying “my Itzik got a 100 on the test!”

Studying Mishnah, or any part of Torah, will certainly bring your father nachas in the spiritual world where he is living and give you the feeling of connection which you yearn.


Rabbi Yerachmiel Fried

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Jewish Law & Thought

Mourning After Kaddish

I have recently completed the year of mourning and kaddish for my father, and am left with a profound feeling of emptiness now that it’s finished. I know I can no longer say kaddish, but is there anything more that I can do or is that it?

Jewish History & Current Events


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