Reciting Vidui for My Father

Editor’s Note: David Theodore Artson passed away in his sleep on Shabbat, January 22, 2022. 

As I write this, My father, David Theodore Artson, at 93 years old has entered hospice. His time draws near. My sister and her family, my brother and his partner, my daughter, son-in-law and I have gathered in Sonoma to hold his hand, to accompany him on this journey, to testify to our love. My wife and son are not able to be with us physically, so they have been texting and facetime calling to be present as well. We are whole; we are family. Our love is light.

My relationship with my father was complicated in my teens and twenties. But the miracle of our steadfast love is not where we started, but where we have arrived. For the past fifteen years, I have called my father twice each day, morning and evening. He has fashioned himself a reliable fountain of unconditional love and care, extending beyond the three siblings to our spouses and children. My Dad has grown in greatness of spirit, in unexpected and wonderful ways.

There is a special prayer, ideally recited by the dying, just prior to the end of life. If the dying are not able to recite Vidui for themselves, it is an act of love to pray it on their behalf.

And this transition is the Grand Finale, the climax of spirit and integrity. Having lost his beloved wife to death a year ago, my father held on to celebrate my daughter’s wedding (on Zoom) and then, a few days later, fell at home, requiring surgery on both legs. It quickly became clear that he was not going to recover from the fall and the subsequent surgery. This was the beginning of the end.

And that is where the miracle erupted. My father has faced this reality with clarity and vision. For the past year, he has told me that he is unafraid of death, that he is ready to go. He has affirmed that he has lived a full life – with joys and regrets – and that he is ready to be reunited with his parents (long gone), his recently deceased sister, and his wife, Jeanne. Twice a day for the past few years, he has told me how proud he is of me, how much he loves me, that he loves my wife Elana as a daughter, that our son, Jacob, is his hero and how much he admires and loves Shira, our daughter. Twice a day for over a decade, he has told me that he feels my presence all the time. Through that entire time, not a complaint from my Dad, only gratitude, pride, and love. 

This week, I was able to return the favor.

There is a special prayer, ideally recited by the dying, just prior to the end of life. If the dying are not able to recite Vidui for themselves, it is an act of love to pray it on their behalf.

For a moment, that sterile room was transformed into holy space, as the ancient Hebrew words lifted us to wholeness and peace. I held my father’s hand and, in my brother’s presence, chanted the words in Hebrew.

The other day, in his hospital room, I was able to offer to say this prayer for him, and he responded that he would like me to. For a moment, that sterile room was transformed into holy space, as the ancient Hebrew words lifted us to wholeness and peace. I held my father’s hand and, in my brother’s presence, chanted these words in Hebrew:

Holy One our God and God of our ancestors we acknowledge that all life is in Your hands. May it be Your will to send healing to my father, David ben Minna. Yet if the end is imminent, may it reflect Your love and atone for all those times he could have done better. Grant him the reward of the righteous and give him eternal life in Your Presence.

Guardian of the bereaved, protect David ben Minna and his beloved family, for their lives are interconnected in the bond of love.

In Your hand lies his spirit. You have redeemed him, Holy One, God of Truth.

Here, O Israel: the Holy One our God, is One.

We praise God’s glorious sovereignty throughout all time.

The Holy One reigns, the Holy One has reigned, the Holy One shall reign forever and ever. The Holy One is God.

My father held my hand with his eyes closed, and when the prayer was complete, he whispered, “I love you.”

I love you too, Dad.

Rabbi Dr Bradley Shavit Artson (www.bradartson.com), a Contributing Writer, holds the Abner and Roslyn Goldstine Dean’s Chair of the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies and is Vice President of American Jewish University in Los Angeles.