05.15.2014 Sixty-five Weeks

Lisë and I met early in our freshman year at Clark University, 34 years ago. Last year, she suffered the most immense losses. Her 18-year-old son Eitan died in his sleep in his freshman dorm on Valentine’s Day. Three months later, her partner of seven years, Larry, also died without warning on Mother’s Day.

Lisë is a writer, and her struggle to find her way out of this sea of desolation led her to begin posting on Facebook. That soon became a weekly post, every Thursday (the day Eitan died). Recently, Lisë created a blog, including all of her posts from Facebook, and continuing on from there. Today’s post is “Sixty-five Weeks”. And I share this because my friend writes so eloquently about the journey that has brought her to this point. Of needing to summon memories of her son and her partner, without being crushed by grief. I am inspired by her courage and moved by her honesty.

I hope this will find its way to someone who needs to know that their darkness can be dispelled. It takes time. And hope helps.

Eitan Stern-Robbins z"l

Sixty-five weeks.
Fifty-two weeks and four days ago I lost my beloved Larry,
twelve weeks and three days after Eitan.

I’ve been thinking a lot about love, during these three months when I still had Larry, suffered just one tragic loss, held up by his immense love and support. It was not at all easy for him, how could it be, yet he was there, a rock for me to cling to in a tempest of grief.

Love isn’t physically tangible, you can’t box it or touch it or divvy it up into individual portions. And yet it is, we feel it in our beings, at a cellular level, and so I felt the strength of Larry’s love for me, holding me up through all those first days of living without, shiva, saying kaddish with me during the 30 days, coming here for Shabbat dinner, staying here and coming with…

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Bark, don't bite.

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