sitting shiva in new york

If an uninformed observer came to Valerie's house today, they might think the objective of sitting Shiva is to fatten up the mourners. 

Platters of candy and nuts and dried fruits.  Edible artistry in the form of fruit and vegetables. Small pastries and cakes of every kind. And that’s not even including the meals in between:  tuna salad, chicken salad, bagels, deli food, and cole slaw for lunch.  Baked shrimp, pasta with vegetables, veal parmigiana, salad and garlic knots for dinner.  Then more desserts for those coming at night.  So much food, starting at noon and continuing non-stop until after nine. 

Meredith picks me up at 11 and we drive out to Valerie’s home in Long Island.  Jill and Rita are already there, and my sister Jean and my mom arrive the same time we do.  In the past month, I’ve gotten together more with my family than in the past two years combined — an altogether nice experience.

Valerie has a large house and it is packed with people from noon until I leave around 9:30.  My good friends from the city come, and I am truly humbled that they do.  Even though my dad’s passing is not tragic, it is comforting to be surrounded by those you care about most.

Valerie and Abbey have lived in Long Island since their marriage in 1975; and Abbey grew up there.  They are both very social and involved, as evidenced by the hundreds of people that show up.  I know many of them, and they are always warm, treating me as a friend, more than as a sister or in-law of their friend.

Because my dad was 90, and his life was filled with so much that was good, his death is not a tragic one.  The mood is more festive than not.  Actually, and I hope this is okay to think, I feel like I just came from a two-day party in Massachusetts, that continued up to New York.  The talk is of everything from real estate to weddings to fashion to college to children and babies.  But part of every single conversation is something about my dad.  Whether it’s a simple I’m sorry or a loving anecdote, George is warmly acknowledged.

My dad’s favorite holiday by far was Thanksgiving.  And though there is no turkey being carved, in every way this past week has mirrored the holiday my dad loved best.  An abundance of food mixed with an abundance of family. Wherever my dad is, I have no doubt  he is smiling.