Kaddish and Coffee

Some know me as a tea drinker. My tastes lean towards black blends from India or China; Assam or Yunnan blends are usually my first choices. I then trail off into distinctions in tea such as whether it is malted or flavored with either fruit or flowers. Earl Grey or Mauritius are examples of these variations. I usually make a pot of four cups, place three into a Thermos, and drink the leftover almost immediately.

But I also like to have some coffee in me. Strange, how a person can make both coffee AND tea and consume both of them in the morning. Some would call it sacrilege. I appreciate both (although I must admit that I have very low tolerance for poorly-made tea and would gladly drink store brand coffee instead of the snooty designer stuff). Still and all, I do keep a bag of the good stuff in the freezer for weekend blends. Teabags, however, are not to be found here.

Last March (2021) I lost my Mother. She was 89. I decided to honor her memory by reciting the mourner's prayer.

"When mention is made of "saying Kaddish", this unambiguously refers to the rituals of mourning. Mourners recite Kaddish to show that despite the loss they still praise G*d." ...

"Kaddish is not, traditionally, recited alone. Along with some other prayers, it traditionally can only be recited with a minyan of ten Jews."

I have been saying it alone all this time. I don't belong to a synagogue community and I prefer to do my prayer and meditation alone. There are times for joining others in celebration, observation, ritual, and the like, but my personal conversations and reflections are not thoughts and hopes and dreams that I care to share with my fellow humans in the moment.

I know that He does not begrudge me for praying alone for I am an introvert, and I work on my own schedule, and sometimes I speak, and sometimes I sing or chant, and sometimes I use a pronunciation from a land that no longer exists. But the Ashkenaz lifestyle will be reserved for another day.

Today I made sure to have some coffee in me before heading to the eastern wall of my house, lifting the prayer book, and saying the words of praise. Separate and apart from this, I generally recite the many things for which I am and remain grateful. Sometimes these are random thoughts and more often than not they are statements that would make the on-listener chuckle:

"I am thankful for being able to cook with gas." "I am thankful for a roof over my head." "I am thankful for a trouble-free, new FIAT (truly the BEST car I've ever owned)." "I am thankful for a working washer and dryer and for soap to clean my clothes and body." "I am thankful that my hair and nails continue to grow." "I am ALWAYS thankful AND grateful for continued good health." "I am thankful that you brought Cook into my life for 15-16 years and that he left me with a cat and dog that I am able to feed, care for, and share love." "I am thankful for gainful employ at which I am--for the most part--competent." "I am thankful for the handful of friends who have remained in my life."

The list goes on and it contains things that are no one else's business but that between Him and me. The coffee drinking is an honor and a memory of my mother. For years she had a breakfast that was ½ matzoh with butter and a cup of coffee. A great way to stay slender. Unfortunately, I did not inherit the stay slender gene and I have absolutely no love for exercise or physical activity. I've taken to walking about 3 miles round-trip at night. I'm never quite sure how many calories I expend since the calories are based on the walker's weight and the amount of time he takes going from point A to point B. I generally make myself lighter (decreasing the calorie calculation). And I fudge with the distance. If I am walking to a store, there is also going to be some motion WITHIN the store, no?

So today I'm drinking coffee that was gifted to me by my friend, Gary. He roasted it himself. And since I don't keep matzoh in the house (I prefer Wasabröd) I use something different, but imbue her spirit into the blessing.

She and I had many different notions about colors and about food. If she knew I were living on rice and beans for breakfast, she would no doubt be mortified. This was considered to be a poor man's diet. Probably fit for someone with decaying dentition. I have neither affliction. Rice and beans--the way I measure them--provide 195 KCals, 8 grams of protein, 8 grams of fiber, and 38 grams of carbohydrates. They hit the spot. And it's certainly more welcome than cold cereal. This afternoon I will enjoy cabbage soup with golden beets (another treat from the Old Country). To each his own