After 11 months, that's that

Today I said the Jewish prayer for the dead for the last time. In the observant Jewish world, when a parent dies, the son must say kaddish (the prayer theoretically for the dead, although not really for the dead) three times a day for 11 months.

I decided to say it daily (although only once a day) eleven months ago when my father died because I knew my brother wouldn't and couldn't. After some searching for precedents (arguments in Judaism are not unlike arguments in a court of law) and after talking to my two rabbis (I'm Jewish and we are not programmed to settle for one opinion), I decided that it was better to take on the task myself rather than handing it over to my husband.

Giving the task to one's husband is commonly Plan B in my world. There are exceptions but as I have mentioned on several previous occasions, this is not a Judaism class. If you want more information, google it or ask someone who actually knows what they are talking about.

I am not a feminist in anything but the most basic, obvious ways, but passing off my responsibility on to my husband just didn't feel right to me. In all fairness, it is not uncommon to do so and I am sure that many of my friends who didn't have a brother to say the prayer daily, did exactly that or will do exactly that when the time comes.

I decided to do this for my own reasons but in the process I became a poster child for a campaign that I never really wanted to spearhead in the first place. First of all, I would have rather had my father than be making prayers in his memory or for the protection of his soul. Secondly, if people started looking at me as a religious role model then the world has truly gone to hell in a handbasket!

However, before I wrap up the process completely (because I do not intend to continue going to synagogue every day at 2:15 p.m.), I need to get some closure. So here it is.

When I started to "say kaddish" I was very uncomfortable and intimidated by the men in the synagogue. I received more hairy eyeballs and snarly lipped looks than I care to remember. However, the joke was on all of them. They thought they could intimidate me enough that I would stop praying out loud, but I did not. In fact, the longer I did it, the more I learned and the more confident I became. And let me add to all of you (you know who you are): A pox on your house for your downright childish, narrow-minded, parochial behaviour.

I also have a few people who deserve acknowledgment (although I won't give their names):

• Thank you to my husband (okay, one sort-of name) who fought all the early battles on the men's side of the synagogue when the men tried to ignore me and keep on praying as if I wasn't there.
• Hahahaha to you ignoramuses who tried to keep praying and pretending I wasn't there. I was there and G-d took note of your lousy behaviour.
  
• Thank you to the men in the more tolerant synagogue up the street from my regular synagogue, who not only supported me quietly but also told me when I missed my cue to start my recitation by yelling my name out loud!
  
• Thank you to the American men in my synagogue who are just raised more tolerant than men from other societies. I thank God every day that you weren't born Belgian, British, or Canadian.
  
• Thank you even more to the one Belgian, two Brits and a spattering of Canadians who supported me despite their cultural backgrounds. You are a credit to independent thinkers everywhere.
• Thank you to the men who were also saying kaddish and took the time to say it slowly so that I wouldn't be left behind.
• Thank you to my young neighbour who totally disagreed with what I was doing but managed to keep enough of a sense of humour to take it all in stride.
• Thank you to my rabbi who basically told the men in our congregation that anyone who had a problem with what I was doing was going to have to go through him.
• And thank you to all the women who stood around me in synagogue and said Amen at all the right times regardless of what was happening on the men's side of the building.

I would have preferred never to have found myself in this situation to begin with but since we have no choice in these matters, I can truly say that I have learned a lot and grown immensely from the experience. That said, I am no one's poster child so don't look for me in synagogue this week. I'm taking a day off.