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Being Away
A beloved member of my extended family passed away recently. He was a good man who — despite his struggles — came out on top as loving, lighthearted and always helpful. He will be forever missed.
News of the death broke that Friday with a call from my sister. She is our family’s Emergency Broadcast System (and it is never a test). I assumed the burial would take place the following Sunday, as is Jewish custom. But the coroner wanted an extra day or two to evaluate the body. Within 24 hours of calls, texts and Facebook posts to those affected, it became clear the burial would be on that Wednesday.
I live in Los Angeles and my family are in Toronto, a significant but traversable 2000 mile DMZ. That Wednesday however I had to be in Vienna to give a paid speech. Because 2019 was a slow year professionally, and the organizer would have been devastated, I simply couldn’t cancel at the last minute. It was soon clear that there was no way I could make it to the funeral.
I felt awful. Everyone seemed understanding of my predicament and said they felt loved, nonetheless. I contributed by writing much of our family’s eulogy, which was delivered beautifully by my sister.
Missing important events is a fact of modern life. But if I’m being honest, it happens to me a lot. And while I was once very comfortable in this distance, I’m not sure how I feel anymore.
