It never occurred to me that after honoring a friend who was sitting shiva for his mother, I would end up honoring a Jew I never met.
That’s what happened Monday night. After leaving the shiva, reality set in.
Like much of the world, I was reeling from the double horrors of the murders of Jews in Australia and the murders of Rob Reiner and his wife in Brentwood.
And all this horror coming right at the start of Hanukkah, the Festival of Light.
It felt perverse to try to “compartmentalize” and hold those horrors in suspense while we celebrated a holiday meant to be joyful.
The Jewish world did its best Sunday night to honor both the holiday and the victims who perished. Part of the Jewish tradition is to keep those who died “in our thoughts.” In truth, what else can we offer but our thoughts and blessings and prayers to make sure we don’t forget them?
For Rob Reiner, my friend had an idea: Let’s watch “When Harry Met Sally.”
Seriously? I knew I would be laughing while trying to honor someone who just suffered a horrible death with his wife.
How could laughing go with mourning?
In any event, we went for it and purchased the film on Amazon.
What stood out for me, besides the enchanted brilliance of the film, is that I couldn’t stop thinking about Reiner throughout the film. Every little scene, every charming encounter with old Jewish couples, every piece of dialogue that kept a great story moving, at every moment, Reiner was on my mind.
My friend and I were honoring a film genius by revisiting what he uniquely brought to the world. A lot of that was joy. “As impossible as it is to process the abrupt end to his life,” Brian Phillips wrote in The Ringer, “Reiner always possessed a joy, curiosity, and affection that was imbued in his movies.”
I’m sad as hell at the Reiner tragedy. I’m enraged at the terror that took the lives of Jews who were celebrating Hanukkah at Bondi Beach.
Those lives can never be brought back. It’s important not to be too glib or rushed with the silver linings that help us cope with tragedies.
When tragedies are so raw, who needs to cope?
I lit the Hanukkah candles, yes, but in the privacy of my heart the candles were bittersweet. I couldn’t help thinking about the human candles that were extinguished only a few hours before we had to light the actual Hanukkah candles.
I confess I also had a twinge of guilt when I so enjoyed rewatching one of my favorite films. Would Reiner be happy that I watched it? Would he approve?
I have no way of knowing.
What I know is that for a good 90 minutes, Reiner was completely in my thoughts.
