My Grandma
As a child, I had a serious Spartacus obsession. What were the necessary ingredients of this movie that seduced my twelve-year-old-self? The oppression by the despicable Romans, the sheer bravery of the humble slaves, the svelte and handsome young hero, Kirk Douglas, who must now be 119 years old, the whisper of homo-eroticism of Tony Curtis? I was captivated. I loved even then the fight against injustice, the power of us underdogs (how was I so sure of my membership in that club at such an early age?), the bonding for righteousness and equality. And of course, my favorite scene, maybe of all movie scenes…….
Do you remember this?
I am Spartacus.
I am Spartacus.
No, I am Spartacus.
We are all Spartacus.
We are all, in the spirit of unity and wholeness, the same.
We are so profoundly different.
Yet we are all Spartacus.
In the spirit of righteousness and justice, we are one.
We are.
And I am a Jew.
The people murdered in the Tree of Life Synagogue were my parents.
They were my grandparents.
They were me.
I am those people murdered.
We are all.
We are all the African Americans who were murdered in Charleston, North Carolina, in the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church.
We are all the parishioners murdered at the Baptist Church in rural Texas.
We are so very different, while being identical.
My grandmother, Sonia Volpe Freidlin, went to temple, Temple Israel in Scranton, Pa., most Saturday mornings. Dressed in her suit, so quietly dressed, with broach and scarf, always with broach and scarf, without fanfare, without discussion, despite a life of great suffering and immense loss, she went to temple.
She was murdered on the floor of The Tree of Life Synagogue. She lay there bleeding and terrified, hunted down because she believed, because she sought comfort, connection, unity, oneness.
In our suffering, in our heartbreak, in our grieving, we are one.
Maya Angelou says it so perfectly in her poem, Human Family. Listen to her wondrous voice speaking these words:
https://www.scientificamerican.com/podcast/episode/maya-angelou-s-human-family/
“We are more alike my friend,
Than we are unalike.
We are more alike my friend,
Than we are unalike.”
The Kaddish, the remarkable cornerstone prayer of Jewish mourning, insists on praising the attributes of God. Death and its contemplation become a journey of staying connected to the beauty in life, to the connectivity in life, to the oneness of all life, even and especially in loss.
Let us stay connected.
To ourselves.
To one another.
Let us stay connected to our vision of the freedom and safety of all.
To our vison of our glorious earth in its bounty.
To our vision of blessings and grace for our children.
For our children’s children.
Let us stay connected.
May our fear be a doorway to faith.
May our loss be a mirror of all that is.
May we continue to lean toward righteousness and justice.
Dear Friends, vote. Vote as an act of grace. Vote as an act of freedom. Vote as an act of righteousness. Vote as an act of mourning. Vote as an act of living. Vote as an act of praise. Vote as an act of compassion. Vote.
And please keep me posted. How are you? What are you feeling? What are you noticing? How are you navigating? I am aruni@rnetworx.com.
All blessings, all prayers, all possibilities,
Aruni