What a terrible day.  Two funerals of people we loved, people who had nothing to do with each other – we were the only mutual connection.  One funeral was at 1 and the other at 3.  Ezi was still recovering from the vaccine, so when the first funeral finished, we decided to stay and have lunch at the new schnitzel stand at the entrance to the cemetery. 

Yes, it is strange to have a cafe next to a cemetery.  But as we sat there I began to realize the enormous number of people and cars on the roads before us.  A new parking lot did little to contain the cars coming and going and the new cafe, albeit small, was also buzzing.  

But the time between the two was very brief, and although we ate quickly, as we sat there with our mouths full of schnitzel, friends began to arrive for the funeral to come.    That hunger for sustenance in the face of the death of our loved ones was so inappropriate and yet overwhelming.

We put our masks back on and went into the cemetery, and there was a crowd even bigger than the crowd in the morning.

But it was rushed.  Hardly had the speakers finished their elegy before the noise of another funeral began.  To speed us up, the hevre kadisha began to wheel out the cart with the body from the cemetery entrance towards the grave.  That is when we collapsed.   

Ezi said ‘enough’ and we started to head home.  But it was turtles all the way.  We crawled through traffic jams that made me almost miss my five o’clock zoom.  I’m not sure how we will get through all the shiva calls this week – but, as Philip Roth said, at our age shivas are the continuation of cocktail parties. 

Now none of these people died of Covid – but a friend has a theory that our situation hastens death – covid-related or not.