Sitting around with a group of people the subject of death arose. Several of those present felt that it was a topic they did not want to partake in. It made them “nervous.” We silently chuckled at their reaction because we know that it is a common attitude, yet wonder at the same time why that is. Talking about what is inevitable does not make it happen any sooner than it is going to occur. We know that we have no control over different aspects of life and yet we think that by avoiding something it will go away. Trust us that is definitely not the case. In the great scheme of things whatever is in HaKodesh Baruch Hu’s plan is totally not something that we are able to control. After being born and living one’s life the next step is not ours to choose. For that reason we hear of the tragedies befalling very young people who pass away, older people who die tragically, some who pass as a result of a devastating illness and others who choose not to live any longer. There is a certain feeling of security that young couples and some not so young couples mistakenly live with. Talk of having a will is painful. Decisions as to who will be the best surrogate parents of children who may lose their parents unexpectedly is sometimes put on the back burner. Is there a brother and his wife who should take preference over aging grandparents except for the fact that they are not observant? Is there a family member who lives 500 miles away and would definitely be the relative of choice? Is it fair to the children involved to move them after such an earth-shattering occurrence?
We realized the importance of facing these critical decisions many years ago when we were in our early to mid thirties. An extremely close friend suddenly died in Atlanta from a brain aneurysm. She was the mother of six, of whom her youngest was five. We remember well the conversation that we had with her husband, who told us how grateful he was that the one major decision he did not have to make after she died was where his wife should be buried. As recipients of mail from Yeshiva University Alumni, frequently there were offers to buy cemetery plots in Eretz Yisroel. One day he and his wife agreed that since it was unlikely that their children would remain in Atlanta they would take advantage of buying plots in Israel. We, by the way, were the proposed guardians of their children, had anything happened to both of them. It becomes very real and scary when you become so close to such a possibility really happening. Wow, six children on top of our five children. That would be a good deal to handle and of course we would have done it without hesitating. Lesson learned of the importance when asked of really thinking through carefully what the ramifications would be in such a situation.
We went home and carefully thought about what had been discussed and decided that we would also buy cemetery plots in Israel. Chances of our children remaining in Montreal were unlikely. We looked at it as being a purely natural thing to do. It did not enter our minds that people in their thirties should not purchase cemetery plots. As the years passed and we mentioned it to friends they were shocked. To this day we still meet people who are considerably older than we were at that time who tell us that they still do not have plots because it is hard for them to talk about. It is not going to not happen due to lack of discussion. On a more humorous note we remember the day that we told our children that we owned “land” in Israel. They jumped for joy. “Where is it—near Emek Refaim—Modi’in—Netanya?” Wow, their thoughts were in action on the prospect of a home away from home in Israel. When we told them the real details of our land purchase, they were extraordinarily upset that we even mentioned to them the possibility that we were planning our next life. “Don’t mention it to us again,” we were told. One day we were visiting the grave of someone buried in the same cemetery in Israel where we had purchased plots. We went to the head office and asked to see where our graves were. The man took us and pointed to two slabs of grass. We felt fulfilled, hugging each other and realizing that one day one of us would be there alone and now we could see it together. For us this was so normal and real.
By Rabbi Mordechai and Nina Glick
This is not meant to be a morbid discussion. It saddens us to see how many people live their lives in denial of what the future holds. No one knows. However, we all will die; it is a given. Isn’t it better to think about it at a calm time in life instead of at a time when serious decisions need to be made without the person who you would most want to discuss it with?
