I inherited my father’s prayer shawl on the first day of Shiva, a few hours after we buried his body in Jerusalem. There it was, orphaned on the shelf in the living room, in its familiar blue velvet bag with his initials embroidered in faded gold Hebrew letters.
I took out the woolen fabric, blue stripes, worn fringes and when I wrapped it around my face, I inhaled his smell. Sometimes I still can. From that day on I’ve been beginning each day with wrapping it around my shoulders just as he had done each morning until his last. A daily hug from the ancestors, the weight and love, the loss and hopes of generations. I whisper words added to the liturgy: ‘Boker Tov Abba’- Good morning, Father’.
Seven years later my son came of age and on the eve of his Bar Mitzvah celebration we went to pick up the prayer shawl we had designed together. He had been sitting with me during my morning meditation routine, watching how I wrap and wear the shawl, witnessing the words I say.
On his brand new Talit, my son surprised me – he had those same three words in Hebrew embroidered as a blessing to be wrapped around his shoulders. Boker Tov Abba. Hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder we wrap ourselves in memory, reclaim and reinvent the meaning of mornings, and mourning, and what it feels to be alive.
Amichai Lau-Lavie is a Rabbi, social entrepreneur, human rights activist, and founder of the Lab/Shul community in New York. www.labshul.org
