Email to Friend
Out of death, new life
I had called the Rev. Nora Smith and asked to talk to her, and she said to come to services and afterwards she would see me. It had been almost five months since I had found my wife at home lying in bed. It was the way she wanted to go, no pain, no operations, just go to sleep. For me, there was not a moment's peace. The emotion and physical pain were almost unbearable. We were true soulmates. We talked to each other constantly and were almost inseparable. She had even become part of my business, starting a giftware department in my store.
When I found her lying peacefully in bed, having died of a heart attack, my world fell apart. After 26 years of marriage, I felt there was nothing left and wanted to join her. I even knew how I would do it. At four in the morning, I would take out my bottles of Vicodin painkillers and wonder, "could I do this?" Who would find me? How would my brother and sister feel? Even though I was financially secure and healthy, life held no interest for me. All I wanted was my wife back. But after much urging from my family, I decided to call Nora. She had performed my wife's memorial services and been very kind. She said if I needed help or to talk, call her.
I had always felt something when I went to Church of the Intercession. My wife's sister, who committed suicide at 28, was buried there. We had been going up to the church in December for the Clement Moore services since 1988. He is buried there. The church would have a reading of The Night Before Christmas and a celebrity would call up all the children to sit onstage. I had always had this feeling when I went there. I couldn't really identify it, but it always made me feel good. I even said to my wife, "I would like to read the Bible."
Having been raised Episcopalian in Scotland, she was thoroughly versed in the Bible. She could quote entire passages, but never went to church. She said that the Bible was boring. It's "who begat, who begat, who begat; it will put you to sleep." So I never opened the book.
The bell rang, and I stood up and thought I'll never be able to stay here. I had no idea what went on in church. In fact, I had only been to church for weddings and funerals. Having been raised Jewish, I had very little contact with Christianity. As the organ started playing, colored light streamed through the stained glass window and I felt a strange sensation. The smell of incense wafted through the air and the congregation started singing.
Things seemed to be different this time. There was no impatience, no feeling like I wanted to run out the door. It was replaced by a peaceful calm feeling. After five months of purgatory, it was almost intoxicating. I still had no idea what was going on, but I didn't care. I just closed my eyes and absorbed the feeling. Maybe it was the words being spoken, maybe it was the hymns, I didn't know. Or, as I have come to feel, maybe it was my wife's spirit. All I knew was I was supposed to be there. I just drank in the feeling.
Some members of the congregation showed me the hymnal and Book of Common Prayer. I must have looked like a fish out of water. In all of this, I realized that I had come home and found a piece of my heart in the church. Maybe it was something that was always missing. I knew I had to find that out.
I went to see Nora afterwards and we talked for about a half an hour. I started going up on Thursday mornings and going to church on Sundays. I felt connected. It was a totally new feeling, but the Sunday part was difficult. Even though I had abandoned Judaism long ago, it was still very difficult to accept that I was going to church.
Since my youth, I had always believed in God, but I always thought religion was for other people, not me. As I started reading the services, I couldn't believe how much Judaism was in them. It made me feel connected to the readings and the church. The more I read, the more I wanted to read. Nora recommended the Rev. Jerry Keucher as a tutor, to help me read and understand the Bible.
When I started reading the Bible, I began with the Old Testament and moved to the New Testament. I started to learn Judaism. In fact, I learned more Judaism than I ever knew. When I began to read the gospels, I was amazed. Jesus' teachings and philosophy were things I already knew. I had accepted these principles a long time ago. I began to feel a sense of rebirth and purpose. I wasn't happy, but I was peaceful. Whatever had directed me there had given me a purpose and I knew what it was.
I would be baptized and accept all the things I learned and realized. I knew I was changing. I could also put away the Vicodin. It no longer held any meaning.
Two other adults joined me in Bible study. On Thursday mornings, we would meet with Jerry and Nora and discuss weekly readings. I really loved that time; it made me feel spiritual and part of something larger than myself. I really couldn't believe how I'd changed. I wondered what my wife would have said to me. I knew she was watching over me. In death as in life, it was the same; she was always there for me. We would always be soul mates.
On April 19, 2009, I was baptized and confirmed � an extraordinarily happy day for me. The next Sunday, April 26, was the first anniversary of her death, the worst day of my life. I wondered why these two Sundays were next to each other. I remembered what Nora taught me: when you pray, you always get an answer. It may not be what you want or expect, but you always get an answer. I have learned this and I did get my answer. Baptism represented my rebirth and reaffirmation of life. My wife's death is what brought me there.
Life has a sacred purpose and we are here for a reason. We may not always understand why or what to do, but there is a purpose. Belief helps to be that guide. Even in death, my wife gave me a gift. It was the gift of life. It took Nora, Jerry and the church, along with my wife, to show me.
� Respond to this articleSearch
Browse by Topic:
Multimedia »