From a Mother to Her Girls

From a Mother to Her Girls
by Rabbi Karen Kedar

Read by Rabbi Dorothy Richman at Congregation Beth Sholom
Yizkor Service 5786

The morning you wake to bury me,
you'll wonder what to wear.
The sun may be shining, or maybe it will rain;
It may be winter — Or not.
You'll say to yourself, "Black, aren't you supposed to wear black?"
Then you will remember all the times we went together to buy clothes:
The prom, homecoming;
Just another pair of jeans;
Another sweater; another pair of shoes —
You will remember how I loved to dress you.
How beautiful you were in my eyes.

The morning you wake to bury me,
you will look in the mirror in disbelief.
You'll reach for some makeup — Or not.
And you won't believe that
this is the morning you will bury your mother.
But it is. And as you gaze into that mirror, you will shed a tear — Or not.
But look. Look carefully,
for hiding in your expression, you will find mine.
You will see me in your eyes, in the way you laugh.
You will feel me when you think of God,
and of love and struggle. 

Look into the mirror and you will see me in a look,
or in the way you hold your mouth or stand, a little bent, or maybe straight.
But you will see me. 

So let me tell you, one last time, before you dress; what to wear.
Put on any old thing.
Black or red, skirt or pants.
Despite what I told you all these years, it doesn't really matter.
Because as I told you all these years, you are beautiful the way you are.
Dress yourself in honor and dignity.
Dress yourself in confidence and self-love.
Wear a sense of obligation to do for this world,
for you are one of the lucky ones and there is so much to do, to fix.
Take care of each other,
Take care of your heart, of your soul.
Talk to God.
Wear humility and compassion.
When you wake to bury me,
Put on a strong sense of self, courage, and understanding.
I am sorry. Forgive me. I am sorry.
Stand at my grave clothed in a gown of forgiveness, dressed like an angel would be, showing compassion and unconditional love.
For at that very moment, all that will be left of me to give is love.
Love.

(This version of the poem is slightly revised. The original version can be found on page 1270 of The Torah: A Women's Commentary; New York, 2008; editors, Dr. Tamara Cohn Eskenazi and Rabbi Andrea Weiss)