Immortality Lives On … as It Should

In sorting through our recently-deceased mother’s writings, my brother and I came upon this treasure. It seems my ex-husband Mike – ever the existentialist, had asked for mom’s wisdom in regard to his own mother’s passing, when he was just 18 years old. As a teacher in schools and in life, mom was quite erudite and had clearly pondered the subject herself. Below is her thoughtful response.

Dear Mikey,

When I was a teenager, I spent a lot of time pondering the meaning of existence, immortality, ethics and religion, first in Habonim, and then later in college, taking a lot of philosophy courses. I also attended seminars at Hillel during my undergrad years, afterward when I was between my B.A. and grad school, and during and after grad school. I furthermore took extension courses given by UCLA on various current events examining questions of ethics.

If people approach me with various questions on these topics, I tend to make light of these questions, not because they aren’t important, but because the answers are not simplistic and can’t be answered in 25 words or less. The conclusions I have come to took a lot of years of living as well as reading and studying. Also, the answers are very personal, and what is true for one person is not necessarily true for another.

Amazingly, (I say this because I come from a very unreligious family); when it comes to observing formal rituals and attending services, I concluded the Jewish religion has more to offer than just about any other. Partly, of course, because this is the religion I was born into – and our religion states in its refusal to proselytize others, that whatever you were born into, you should become the best one possible in that religion. The more I live the more I see that this is not just practical, it is truly the way to get the most meaning out of the place you come from.

The Jewish religion believes that our spirit lives on within the people whom we have influenced during our lives. Though we have passed away, our deeds have taken on a life of their own, and live on beyond our time on earth. This is our immortality.

No one is born into a vacuum. Each person is born to parents who have a moral code, values, beliefs and traditions. From day one, their attitudes become a part of us: “Nice doggie – we have to be gentle with him.“  “We recycle for a better world, paper goes into the recycling receptacle. “Let’s take the dog for a walk and bring a poo-poo bag.“ We aren’t even aware of most of the things we believe are “right“ – the toilet paper of course hangs down the front, not in the back! Part of our attitudes are a result of our physical makeup and again, part of our heritage. There are thousands of characteristics that go into our family’s physical makeup – our blue eyes, our height.

They are part of us and we are proud of them. We got them from our parents, and our parents live on within us.

Another part of our heritage is our aptitudes and talents. If we come from a home where music is taken seriously, we are apt to include it in our activities. Same for our holiday traditions, foods, religious observances, etc. Do we ever question these? Of course we do, and may sometimes consciously decide to deviate from the traditions of our homes and families. But there are thousands of things we just adhere to subconsciously, because they make sense, because we can’t be bothered worrying about them, because they’re too minute to even think about and because we haven’t encountered them as things to worry about – because they “work.“

What we take from our parents are our earliest and strongest beliefs, values and, yes, talents. It’s not a coincidence that you and Sally both have good writing skills – they are there due to heredity and also because you developed them as a result of living in a household where there was a creative and literary mom. You don’t have to try to be close to a deceased parent, because he/she is already literally within you and a part of you — for better and for worse.

I gave a lot of thought to how much like my parents I wanted to be. As a child I admired my dad more than my mom – I guess our culture valued the types of contributions he made to the family more than those of my mom, considered just a homemaker, though she taught school before marrying. As I get older, I see that my mother’s ideas were nearly always right on target.

But you could not have expected me to realize this when I was 20 or even 30.

“I am a part of all that I have met.“  I can’t remember the name of the philosopher that said that, but it is the truth. (Ed note: A famous line from Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s poem “Ulysses.”) Every life experience you have influences who you are, but it is widely known that the most important of these are your earliest life experiences with the people who were your parents. They have passed on to you your DNA as well as your talents. They have passed on to you their values and attitudes. You can disavow any linkage with a parent, but much of him/her is within you and cannot be separated from you. This is what immortality is about – you pass on to your children what was passed on to you from thousands of years of changing traditions, feelings, values and beliefs.

Does this mean that you can’t change your natural bent? No, but it would take a conscious decision to do away with it as no longer being valid for you — as in the case where a person who, having been brought up to be bigoted, sees that these were erroneous beliefs and so disavows their validity.

I truly believe that our immortality lies in the people that we have influenced as a result of our interactions with them. We truly do live on within our children, grandchildren and the people who have had meaningful contact with us. I personally hope to leave the world somewhat better for my having been here – it’s hard to tell. One day, I watched my dad wheel a supermarket cart all the way across the parking lot to the door of the market. When I asked him why he did that since it wasn’t necessary, his answer was that if everyone did it, the market would need less help and prices would go down.

So when I see my daughter with tote bags she’s believed in using since the ‘90s, and my kids conserving energy, I know that grandpa Reuben lives on. When I’m on the road and a driver tries to get in front of me, I look at him and think, “It doesn’t matter who gets there first – as long as it’s not a tie.“ Zaide Reuben lives on.

I’ll do whatever I can to help my children with their children, as Baba Nessie believed. My children and grandchildren come before just about anything else. Baba Nessie lives on. Thelma’s four-year-old grandson offers a visitor a drink – Thelma’s mother lives on.

I have never 100% “gotten over“ the deaths of my parents. I don’t think it’s possible, or even necessarily desirable. I remember them fondly, sometimes with irritation, sometimes realizing they were wrong about things, sometimes realizing I was wrong about things. But the fact is, I don’t have to look for a connection to them because they are a part of me, and my children, and their children. It’s not just their blue eyes. It’s their sense of humor, the math and writing ability, the values, traditions, beliefs and everything else that goes into making up a life.

Mike, in my opinion, your mother is not  “out there somewhere,“ but is within you – has been within you all along and always will be.

Love, Baba Carol

Lori Rand is a graphic designer, writer and staff member of The Journal. She can’t help but hear her mother’s voice daily, and hopes her own values and traditions will live on through her family as well someday.