As a Chaplain for L’Chaim Jewish Hospice (in partnership with Catholic Hospice of Broward and Dade Counties), I have watched how people say goodbye to a loved one. I have seen and read touching accounts of that most holy of moments, when we acknowledge to our loved one and to ourselves that it is okay to “Let go!”
It might surprise you to know that when a member of the Tribe gets to that point with their father, you will often hear them (either in a whisper or a shout) cry out “ta-ta”… at least that’s what it might sound like to those unfamiliar with Yiddish.
What they are really crying out is “tata,” which happens to be one of the Yiddish words for “father.” Obviously, I bring this up today as Father’s Day is approaching, and, while many still have the joy of having their father on this earth, for many of us, we use this day to remember how incredibly blessed we were to have had our fathers in our lives, and, even though they no longer walk this earth, we try to honor and sanctify their memory.
During the Yiskor Memorial Service, we have a time when we concentrate on prayers for our dearly-departed fathers, and, during that moment in the service, I sang the first words of one of the most famous of songs about fathers.
“Oh, my tata, to me he was so wonderful, oh, my tata, he always understood.” Okay, that might not have been exactly how the lyricist wrote the song, but it just seems so natural for someone who uses a bissel (a little) Yiddish to change the word ‘papa” to “tata.”
After singing those beginning words to the song, I told the members of my flock that, while the words sound wonderful, they are a bit too idealistic. The truth is that no matter how wonderful our fathers may have been, no matter how much we may have idolized them, they were not G-d. They were human beings, and, as such, they did not always understand, and, they were not always so wonderful. Don’t get me wrong, tata may have understood more than most. Tata may have been truly wonderful. But, if we are honest with our memories and ourselves, tata also had his faults. For instance, if you ask momma about him, momma might remind you that tata snored like a freight train and kept her awake many a night. The snoring might have been so loud that you even heard it in the next room or across the hall. But, as much as that snoring annoyed momma, did it (for one second) stop her from loving your tata?
None of us is perfect. We all have our own little flaws. Come to think of it, we all have some pretty big ones. But, that does not stop us from loving or from being loved. May we learn from our dearly departed tatas, our fathers. May we learn from their virtues what to do, and may we learn from the things they did wrong what to avoid, as both honor their memory.
Shalom my friends and a very happy Father’s Day,
Rabbi Craig H. Ezring
Rabbi Ezring is a member of the National Association of Jewish Chaplains and serves in this capacity in a number of Health Care settings in the area including Advocate Home Care Services and L’Chayim Jewish Hospice in Partnership with Catholic Hospice of Broward County.
