It is oddly comforting and at the same time disconcerting that life goes on, no matter what happens. Even when you suffer a loss, there is still laundry, meal time and care-giving to be done. People go about their regular business as they should, and so I am also busy keeping up with life, while my father and aunt sit shiva in Vienna.
I think that exact point is really what is so beautiful about shiva. It gives the close family a chance to stop and reflect. Even though there are a million things to do, you have to take a time-out and just be. Think about the person you just lost, speak about her, share stories and memories. It doesn't make any sense for me to travel back to Vienna for the shiva, as much as I would like to be there. And it is kind of amazing that I was just there a few weeks ago and got to see my Oma one last time.
But I would love to be a fly on the wall, to hear some of the stories people are telling about my Oma. I asked my father to maybe have someone write them down. I will ask my siblings to do the same while they are there. There are so many things I do not know about my grandmother and am curious about- what was her childhood like growing up in Budapest, what happened to her brothers, did she like being a Rebbetzen and so much more.
Will have to make a list and see if I can get some answers in the next few weeks. Until then, I will be telling the stories I already know.