No Words

Last Friday night after services, I wrote a long, sad and bitter post about the situation going on in my home synagogue right now.
A situation that I'm not comfortable sharing in this forum, for a number of reasons.

My post didn't include this person's name, to protect her identity to those who come across this blog incidentally.
It felt silly, even wrong, to refer to this person as "my cantor."
She is so much more than just that.

My post talked meanly about the person/people who made this decision.
A decision they needed to make.
My words were mostly out of the anger and loss I am feeling right now.
Words that could never change the decision, words that would only bring sadness to the people who might have read them.
Therefore, I didn't post the blog. I didn't even save it.

There aren't enough words to describe the sadness and anger this decision has brought into my heart.
The selfish worries for my own future--a future that I thought would always be secure--that are running rampant through my head.
The void that will forever be with me, now that my synagogue is no longer my home.
If this person isn't there, it can't be my home.

And that's the hardest part of all, because so much of my life is still there.

And yet, despite all of my anger and sorrow, I feel the need to share this.
To share something that tells this person how much she means to me and to the congregation.
Had she been given the proper goodbye, I would have shared this poem with her so the congregation could hear.
But since she wasn't given so much as a goodbye, I'll leave them here so everyone I love, including her, can read them.
These words have been with me for the last 10+ years, as long as I've known this person. They capture so beautifully her work at the synagogue, and the gifts she has shared with me and so many others.

To this person--you know who you are--I love you with all my heart.
Thank you for being my mentor, my teacher, my ema #2, my friend.
Thank you for sharing your music, your soul, with me.
Thank you for teaching me the true meaning of success.
This poem is for you, because you have done all of these things and so much more.


What is Success?

To laugh often and much;

To win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of children;

To earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;

To appreciate beauty;
To find the best in others;

To leave the world a bit better, whether by
a healthy child, a garden patch
or a redeemed social condition;

To know even one life has breathed
easier because you have lived;

This is to have succeeded.

~Ralph Waldo Emerson