The first thing I noticed was her French manicure.
And then I saw her arm.
I've seen a lot in my work with the chevrah kaddisha, but this unnerved me, and I had to look away.
At the age of 69, she decided that life wasn't worth living, and she jumped to her death. Out of her third floor apartment's window.
And I, together with 3 other women, were left to clean up the mess and prepare her for burial.
I was shaken up after I was done with that tahara. It wasn't about death. I've seen enough of that. And it wasn't even about the condition of her body. It wasn't the worst I've seen. It was about how her body came to be in this condition. About what she did.
Taharas don't scare me. Death doesn't scare me. It's the way of the world. We are born, we grow old and we die.
But this....this is not the way of the world.
Life has its ups and downs. And I've had my fair share of them. I know pain. But I don't know the feeling that life is not worth living.
How much pain does it take to make someone want to just end it all? How much suffering must one go through to make them decide to end their life? What does it take to make one feel that their life is not worthwhile?
The Gemara says that Hashem never challenges us with more than He has empowered us to handle. So how can we explain a pain so unbearable that it causes one to take her own life in such a violent way?
Honestly...sometimes we do get more than we can handle. It happens. Sometimes it's just...too...much.
Sometimes, for some people, the pain is so sharp and overwhelming that people suffering from an onslaught of it are hardly in control of themselves. They just want the pain to stop.
According to Judaism, we do not own our soul or body, and we are not free to end life when we want. Life belongs to the Giver of Life. And the consequences for taking one's life are severe.
But there are those who commit suicide out of extreme distress and emotional agony. We leave it up to the Giver of Life to know whether this person really had any free choice left in his soul. It is not our job to judge.
So she received a Jewish burial and we performed the tahara. The most unsettling and heartbreaking tahara I ever did.
May we always remember how precious and valuable life is.
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You are missing one "sometmies".. Sometmies the issue is mental illness. And the pain and the turbulence felt is not so much the pain of events but rather the pain of psychological issues never resolved. And that makes the pain ohsomuch worse.
ReplyDeleteHaving been through rough times myself, I can almost understand the following:
ReplyDeleteHonestly...sometimes we do get more than we can handle. It happens. Sometimes it's just...too...much.
Sometimes, for some people, the pain is so sharp and overwhelming that people suffering from an onslaught of it are hardly in control of themselves. They just want the pain to stop.
Very well said.
Amen.
this is going to sound really strange...there were times when i wanted to die so badly and the only thing that held me back was a fear of what the women who would have to pick up the pieces would think of me...
ReplyDeleteWoah…I still can’t imagine doing a tahara on anyone; the thought of touching a dead body still scares me.
ReplyDeleteIt’s true…sometimes…sometimes it does seem like too much. Sometimes, the pain can be so strong it feels unbearable. For some people, hearing that “Hashem doesn’t give anyone anything more than they could handle” is enough to empower them to stay strong, face their challenges and deal with it…no matter how difficult or painful it is.
There are little challenges that can grow to a point of feeling pretty overwhelming and then there are the big ones. But when someone has something to live for, they can deal with a lot more than they thought they could.
But when someone reaches a point where it is so intense and so hard that they cannot continue living and they take their own life away…that’s when all the questions come out.
I'm sorry you had to deal with something so traumatic. May you only have to do taharas on people who lived long and productive lives and may this be the last of this kind for you.
And...you said, Taharas don't scare me. Death doesn't scare me. It's the way of the world. We are born, we grow old and we die. I don't know HOW you could say that. You are right that it's the way of the world. But for me...it does scare me. Plenty.
Cym...
ReplyDeleteYou're right. I thought of that "sometimes". But I didn't include it because it's harder for me to understand and relate.
Shocked...
Thank you. I hesitated before writing that because I thought it would look like a lack of emunah. Like...if the Gemara says so, who am I to disagree? But...sometimes it really IS too much.
Colloq...
I'm so sorry.
I can't speak for everyone else, but for me, there was only compassion. I was aching for her...for stopping the pain the only way she knew how.
Devorah...
I'm not saying I'm not scared to die, or I'm not scared of others dying. I am, of course. I'm not ready to die. Not for a long, long time. But most of the taharas I deal with are women who are old and were at the end of their lives. That kind of death doesn't scare me. That's what I mean when I say it's the way of the world. (Talk to me when I'm 90. I might change my mind.)
All I can say is you're truly blessed that despite any pain you've been through, you still see life as worth living. I can't say I've never thought of death as a relief from excruciating pain. Never as a suicide thought, just sometimes it hurts too much to be down here where on top of pain, there's often no understanding.
ReplyDeleteI give you a bracha that the pain never overwhelm you and that you never understand.
Colloquially speaking- there was nothing strange about what you said.
Mystery--beautifully and sympathetically put.
ReplyDeleteColloquially--I remember understanding what you said, perfectly.