News

Those of you who know me know I am not very religious. Spiritual yes. Culturally Jewish yes. Religious not so much.

I go to Temple once a year to honor my parents who both passed away on Memorial Day weekend. I go with my sister. I usually say this is because I don't want her sitting by herself. Truth is I like to be there when my parents names are read on the anniversary of their passing. I feel my parents deserve that. They were great parents who always put their kids first.

I am comforted knowing my parents names will always be read together because they passed away 5 years and 5 days apart both on Memorial Day weekend. Regardless of what the Hebrew calendar says I choose to remember them on this weekend. I hear their names mentioned at Temple and I light their memorial candles together. Milly & Denny together. Forever.

Tonight the sermon was about the chaos in the world this week. Much of it was about the horrendous suicide bomb in Manchester England. The rabbi also touched on the other atrocities this week: Coptic Christians in Egypt etc. In her sermon she mentioned that somehow the group targeted in Manchester made it personal. Young kids who have been looking forward to this night for months. Also parents killed for the crime of picking up their kids up after the show. It is more personal to me because I love Manchester. I visit there once a year. I have very close friends in Manchester and nearby. Tough working class people with a soft inside. Also very proud people.

I went to sleep Monday night hoping no one I know was affected by this mass murder. I woke up the next morning to a WhatsApp thread and saw one of my closest friend's niece was close enough to the bomb to feel the heat from it. She also had to escape through the carnage the suicide bomber caused. This is way too much for a 15 year to have to deal with for the rest of her life. Or anyone for that matter. Then I thought about those lives lost and the shattered pieces their families now have to live with. It is almost too much to think about.

What made my heart melt was how the people of Manchester aka Mancunians chose to handle this. With an outpouring of love. Sikh taxi drivers shuttling around people with a sign that said "Free Taxi". So many turned out to donate blood they had to be turned away. Cafe's owned by Muslims offering free food and tea for emergency workers. A woman on her honeymoon sheltering 50 kids in her hotel room. Domino's Pizza delivered free pizza non stop to hospitals treating the victims. A Rabbi showed up to the Police station with a large box of cuppas(cups of tea). Knowing Manchester I wasn't surprised.

The end of the sermon tonight the rabbi mentioned the words scrawled on a balloon at the makeshift shrine in St Anne's Square which had the words "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out". She thought this sentiment summed it all up. What she didn't know(or maybe she did) was this is the title to a Smiths song. One of the most influential music groups ever to come out of Manchester.

This also served as a metaphor for why I was at Temple in the first place. To honor my parents for whom the words "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" never seemed more apt.