Rabbi Eli gently explained to us what Judaism teaches about death. I don’t remember the exact words, but I know it felt incredibly comforting at the time. He guided us through the ancient Jewish mourning ritual of keriah: He solemnly gave us each a piece of black fabric, then went around the room, asking us individually if we accepted Dad’s death. When we said we did, he told us to tear the cloth and pin it on the left side of our chest, over our hearts.
During the eulogy, our little Orthodox rabbi was so short you could barely see him from behind the podium. Yet in his traditional garb, he loomed larger than life.
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