Kol Nidre As A Song Of Love
Silton, Faye
KOLNIDRE AS A SONG OF LOVE FAYE SILTON The peculiar thing that struck us as we strolled along the narrow streets was that the same grey-white organdy curtains hung in every window. This New...
...Services were pleasant...
...I was wrong...
...He's all right, no...
...Who lived here...
...All around me, rapt silence...
...Can you hear it...
...Those curtains, we decided, cast murky shadows over what must have been elegant interiors, stately chandeliers and well-organized lives...
...Nor did I understand what kind of man would subject his ailing wife to this pain and embarrassment...
...But my husband and I soon had to cope with our own state of frenzy...
...It seemed that we had strained together for hours, damp with our efforts...
...The news bothered me more...
...The janitor had buffed the floors to a high sheen, as we counted the Machzorim...
...Neither those books—so carefully selected to sustain us in the wilderness—nor our great plans and religious fervor seemed useful in the face of the suffering that we could not comprehend—or help others comprehend...
...The poor woman, heavy on my arm, could only with fiercest concentration make one foot lift itseir after the other...
...She stopped for a moment, wearily raising her head and though the broad face glistened, it looked serene...
...On the Lve of Yom Kippur we glanced outside to an unexpected sight...
...I felt its power...
...But 1 have to, you know...
...This New England town was to be my husband's first pulpit and in the first weeks we walked along the main street late at night...
...It is difficult to do that when so much energy is expended inv "orchestrating an experience" for the congregation...
...I could glance from the back of one head to the next and concoct a sensational family saga iin film...
...IV in...
...He takes it very seriously...
...A Rabbi in a small town has to be a jack-of-all-trades," he laughed...
...now that I am a rabbi's wife...
...The thump of her canes reverberated painfully on the elegant floors—a pity that she would probably not notice the exquisite beauty of our pink marble synagogue...
...My neck and back ached with the effort of steering and scouting ahead for danger...
...How particular about texture and color...
...my dear, he will not begin without me...
...It sounds as though they've already begun Kul Nidre...
...the usual chatter had ceased...
...We learned, too...
...That we would grow old with our congregation who knew something about devotion already...
...Faye Sit ton...
...These were tough working days for us and only occasionally did I take a few moments to "lose myself in the service...
...The bumps of tar in the sidewalk cracks became almost impassable barriers...
...who lives in Albany, is a teacher and writer...
...I had...
...And then she laughed...
...Because you, too, were told you must never miss Kol Nidre...
...Again she laughed quietly and whispered, "Because he wants me to live from New Year to New Year...
...I will miss it...
...we raved about the scenery, the hidden springs and lakes, the quaint shops and the exquisite synagogue building...
...Was my husband aware of the drama...
...My husband knows my pain (she touched her legs), the constant blur of pain, the stabs, the hollow aches...
...There would be congregants we had not yet met...
...At an\ rale, my husband seemed pleased and even got a few compliments on his rendition of the High Holiday Liturgy...
...Cracks in the pavement appeared to be small craters and the curbs loomed as dangerous as the legendary Alpine cliffs...
...After a great pause she groaned and then, lowering her head, slowly forced her feet to lift themselves...
...I stood, inconspicuously (I hoped) in one corner of the shop, flustered not only because I still did not know everyone's name but also because I hadn't yet given much thought to holiday preparations...
...Jews would appear from the liny hamlets about our town, coming down the mountains or over them and our "program" would have lo be worth all that trouble: good and satisfying...
...Now it was dusk and I was grateful that the twilight would help to mask my growing impatience...
...polished the Torah crowns and then dashed across the street to ready our own tiny household...
...He knew, he said, that he should think charitable thoughts and dash out to help...
...I whispered, truly perplexed...
...By the time I attended my third sisterhood meeting...
...I could not understand the signal of thumps, the message that seemed to flow from wife to husband...
...When I had time...
...I suppose I still looked puzzled, so she continued...
...Bookshelves lined the walls around us but offered nothing...
...I felt vaguely guilty about my clinical approach to the whole subject...
...Suddenly she stopped and panic gripped me...
...Impossible,' they say...
...A few agonizing steps from the door I could hear strains of Kol Midre—and in a flash remembered my mother's warning: "You must never be late for Kol Sidre...
...And I love that caring in him, that greatness...
...Because he cares so much, he wants to see me alive...
...The thing was becoming more and more a mystery...
...My Clod," I thought as we nearcd the bottom step...
...My husband paced nervously away from the window...
...Though the C hazan did not arrive (by phone we learned that he would not come due to sickness) my husband, taking several deep breaths, did not allow the news to daunt him...
...I thought, just enough time to bathe and put on my white dress before calling to the Chazan's wife...
...And I? I would be content to move through each day with as much grace as the Chazan's wife...
...quietly, 1 slipped out the front door...
...The grieving looked less bereft and more serene— perhaps feeling thankful for the memories of dear ones present at last year's services...
...As for me, I concentrated on his pitch and signaled if the sermon wore on too long, if his words were audible or not...
...Only a few months later there remained little to guess about and no time to stroll...
...I checked again to make sure...
...A man with trembling hands and a face tremor and a woman on two stout canes limped up our walk...
...And I turned away from the window, concentrating on the new sleeping arrangements to accommodate a near invalid—the bother of it all...
...I haven't heard him in shul since last year but he cannot, he says, be responsible when I am not here...
...No...
...Afterwards, I would cross the street to our home and together my husband and I would lie on the couch, helpless and nearly hopeless...
...Their efficiency tired me and...
...Yes...
...Both of us, intent on finding vacant seats, did not at first notice what part of the service had been reached...
...The more I imagined the intensity of her pain, the more beautiful and calm her profile seemed next to me...
...Or perhaps they were momentarily distracted by the hustle-bustle of holiday preparation—proof that life goes on...
...There would even be a guest Chazan and we would house him...
...And the rabbi could reciprocate by lightening their burdens: making each holiday and each Shabbat more meaningful and joyful so that they would be doubly grateful they had lived to see another one...
...When I glanced up finally, two elders of the congregation stood on either side of the Chazan...
...The Chazan's wife, though, managed to get upstairs and it was decided that after she had rested a bit I would help her down and walk with her to the synagogue immediately before Kol Nidre...
...We simply could not cope...
...She was a big woman...
...We would learn how they lived from holiday to holiday, caring so intensely for each other...
...She wiped the corners of her eyes and I wanted to close my Machzor and listen only to her but—a rabbi's wife—how could I? Still she continued...
...Again she lowered her head and I. thoroughly confused, dragged her at last through the entrance of the synagogue...
...And he knows...
...The evening air revived us a bit, hut there were new obstacles outside...
...The more 1 considered what he must feel each morning as he watches his wife struggle out of bed or perhaps stay there, spent in exhaustion, the steadier and more lyrical he became...
...In an emergency I could neither lift her nor leave her a helpless heap in the middle of the street while I sought help...
...Moran, whose paraly/ed husband sat wasting in the blue car parked outside, gossiped happily with another customer...
...Her voice was smooth as glass...
...My doctors don't believe that I travel with him for Yom Kippur...
...He feels it...
...Nor did we tell them that we had made no real friends...
...We were afraid and ashamed to admit that although we had spent years in preparation, some essential part of our orientation was missing...
...What were their lives like...
...He still worried about his program and whether the visiting cantor would be sufficiently impressive...
...Yet we continued to study the Torah text each week to glean material for sermons...
...She hunched forward, willing each footstep...
...We were still our carefree selves, playing guessing games as we passed some grand old houses...
...The first Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur performance would be a distinct challenge...
...Responsible...
...Two weeks before Rosh llashanah small crowds surged into the liny butcher shop...
...As though the thump of her canes were a signal, he began to chant softly...
...With breathtaking rapidity we heard talcs of debilitating sickness, implacable hatreds, inconsolable griefs...
...When the congregation was finally seated I sat exhausted but full of hope—for the New Year—that one day the rabbi and I would learn to feel this deeply about each other...
...Perhaps these suffering people would emerge from a pre-holiday frenzy to a holiday calm...
...Sickness had reared its ugly head once again...
...I felt so relieved I no longer cared that my fresh white dress was soaked in perspiration or that my hair was hanging limply under my misshapen hat...
...The very air trembled...
...The frail and elderly came on canes and in wheelchairs...
...But the Chazan's wife stared straight ahead at the synagogue entrance, inching toward it...
...1 said...
...His whole body expands and his voice grows...
...The Ten Days of Repentance passed quickly...
...And suddenly, it was Rosh Hashanah eve...
...whose disturbed daughter might be allowed to come home for the Holidays, cheerfully planned her menu with a friend...
...When friends and relatives asked how the new pulpit w;is...
...Yes I can...
...How organized the women seemed...
...Instead he clapped his hands to his head...
...The men left earlier to check last minute details...
...She is married to a rabbi and has five children Her story is based on a real incident...
...Had I expected her speech to be halting as well...
...For all these people, to represent all these suffering people as a Cantor, a spokesman...
...A few times I heard the banister crack and twice she lurched forward dangerously, nearly catapulting both of us to the worn carpet below...
...How ironic...
...We did not mention that since our arrival there had been a funeral once a week but not one wedding or circumcision...
...Surely now his face tremor was hardly noticeable...
...Even this first part of the journey to the synagogue was excruciating...
...I whispered...
...that everyone in town was related, thus multiplying the sorrow one hundred fold...
...Horrible guilt slashed through me...
Vol. 5 • September 1980 • No. 8
