What do you say to a mother who loses a child two days before the due date. Not much. There is nothing much appropriate to say. That is the situation I confronted on Monday when the mother of a new congregant called. We had been planning a baby naming. Instead we planned a funeral.
I rushed to the hospital. The mother had just finished delivering and was resting. The nursing staff was kind and compassionate. The baby, whose name was Violet Aria, was out of the room having her pictures taken. There were some tears, lots of hugs, even some laughter. They brought Violet back in and nestled her in her mother’s arm. She was beautiful. Perfect. I was given the privilege to hold Violet. It is one of the most natural things I have ever done. When I left the hospital after a brief prayer, Violet was back in her mother’s arms, her little fingers around her mother’s.
On Wednesday, we gathered to bury Violet. It used to be that in the old days, Jews didn’t mourn a child under 30 days. We have gotten smarter about this. However, in this day and age, it is so rare to need to, no one has much experience with it yet everyone has some story of someone who lost a baby. Word fail here too. Lost a baby? It is not as though the couple doesn’t know where it is. The baby died. The baby was still born.
Judaism’s rituals for morning are very concrete. We tear a ribbon or our clothes. We shovel dirt onto the casket to hear that sound and know that this is final. We act with compassion. As G-d clothed the naked, visited the sick and buried the dead, we too bury the dead as a sign of compassion that cannot be repaid.
But in that moment words fail. We learn from the Book of Job, that our mothers were right. Silence is golden. Job lost everything. His friends showed up and sat for seven days without saying anything. That was good. Then they tried to speak. They tried to ask what Job had done wrong. That was bad. Job answered from within his deep pain, “A man’s friends should love him when his hope is gone. They should be faithful to him even if he stops showing respect to the Mighty One.”

Many people rush in after a tragedy and say things to make the situation less awkward, to fill the void. If you are faced with this situation, try to avoid things like:
God needed another angel in heaven
It’s OK. You are young. You can have another one.
It happened for the best.
I know exactly how you feel.
What are you going to do now?

Try instead
I’m sorry. I know how much you were looking forward to being a parent
It’s OK to cry
Would you like to talk about it?
Is there anything I can do for you?
I’ll call you in a few days.

After a tragedy, some people can’t muster the faith of Job. Some struggle through the meaning of the Kaddish, that we praise G-d for life, even in the face of death. That’s OK. What I told the family is that it is OK to be sad. It is OK to be angry. It is even OK to be angry with G-d. I believe that G-d cries with us. Some things are beyond explanations–theologically or medically. Sometimes things just happen.

At the end of a funeral, the mourners line up to greet the family. They say, Hamakom yinachem etchem. May the Place comfort you. My colleague, Rabbi David Paskin who lost a child to brain tumor struggled to understand that greeting. Why not call G-d, The Compassionate One, the Merciful One, the Comforting One? Why call G-d at that moment the Place. He discovered that it is because when you lose a loved on, all you have left is a space, a place, an emptiness. They are saying that may that space that hurts so damn much comfort you. May you learn to live with that space. He wrote a song in tribute to Liat., called HaMakom. I’ve been thinking about it all week. I talked to the couple about that phrase.

Here is the youtube clip from NewCaje where I watched him perform it live. I cried then. I cried listening to it again this morning. “May the One who fills our space, give us hope and give us strength. In our silence may we hear the voice of G-d.” The music is great but you need to hear him tell the story at the beginning. I was the one the who went to the Butcherie and rushed in with the deli platters. It was something I could do. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NEETpwpt2LM

Woody Allen said 80% of life is showing up. When confronted with this kind of situation it is about showing up. It is about being present. You may not have the perfect words. No one does. Go. Hug the couple. Cry. It’s OK.