The heart is a lonely hunter

“...about the inevitable: I’ve decided it’s all right if it comes.” -- William Stafford.

A woman about my age who lived in the building where I live was found dead in her apartment this past Thursday. Her funeral was held today. I hardly knew her. She was reserved, and being an introvert myself, I avoided the awkwardness of trying to connect and went on with my busy life. Two days before her body was discovered, I met her in the elevator and she spontaneously invited me to tea. I wanted to say yes, because I could sense her loneliness, and it had been a couple of years since we’d had a cup of tea; but Bella was arriving that afternoon, and I wanted to make preparations for her visit, so I said no thanks. I lightly tossed off, “Let’s try another time.”

Today at the funeral, the rabbi said, "She died alone, and it was a day or so before she was found. Perhaps that is a reminder to us all that if we can manage it, we should try to be a little less alone than she was.”

Brave rabbi. Her honesty and directness moved us. She sang some very beautiful, haunting prayers. We read the brief mourner’s kaddish. And the rabbi read William Stafford’s poem, “Notes for the Program,” part of which I have quoted above.

The rabbi also read a eulogy written by the dead woman’s friend in Guatemala. I learned more than I had ever known about her: how brave she had been, and what a social activist in her youth; how creative and compassionate she was; and that she was a visual artist. She had recently been working with a committee fighting for immigrant rights. About thirty people came to mourn her passing, most of them social activists from her Jewish congregation.

A niece was the only member of the family who came to the funeral, and she explained that her father, the dead woman’s only brother, is “quite reclusive.” I always have my camera with me, so I offered to take some pictures the niece can send to her father. This is one of those pictures, processed here in high contrast to honor the privacy of the mourners.

“If we can manage it, we should try to be a little less alone.” And if we can manage it, those of us who are blessed to be a little less alone--should have tea with our neighbors when they ask us.