Two things have been going on this week. One is that I’ve been
digitizing an old cassette tape of a production of Fiddler on the
Roof from High School. The other is that my mother has been slowly
dying, finally passing away on Sunday.
Nostalgia and grief make a pretty somber combination. Yet the two
seemingly unrelated things combined for me in a surprising way.
There’s a scene in Fiddler where a daughter explains to her father
in song that though she loves her home, she must travel to Siberia to
join the man she is to marry. It’s a soft haunting melody. The
school mate that sang it did a fantastic job. Even when I was
sixteen, it was all I could do not to cry when I heard her.
Though the song has nothing to do with death, it’s been stuck in my
head since my mother’s passing. I’d assumed that it was there
because I was sad, and the song fit my mood.
Then it occurred to me. Like the character, Hodel, my mother has
taken a journey far from the home she loves. Though she goes to join
my father and other loved ones she’s missed, she longs to help us
understand why she does what she does. She knows and shares the
sadness we feel, but she has to go on to life that, for a time
doesn’t include us.
The image of my mother singing “Far From the Home I Love” has
brought me comfort and perspective as I hope it will for some of you
who are missing those that have made the same journey.
