It's not perjorative to acknowledge that I am awkward at paying shivah calls. If anything, the hope is we will have to pay too few to become overly comfortable with the procedure. On Motzei Shabbos, I dragged myself out for my last chance at nichum aveilim for a high school friend whose father passed away. Shlomo HaMelech says "Tov leches l'beis avel mi'leches l'beis mishteh"--"Better to go to a house of mourning than to a house of feasting [because the first evokes feelings of repentance the true meaning of life while the second masks the important mission of life with partying and indulgence]."  I feel as though in many ways I arrived at the Shiva empty and left full.

It is a big family, bli ayin hara, and the stark contrast of the mourners, holding babies, speaking about their deceased father was jarring. The circle of life is such an enigma. While we grieve over the patriarch who has exited this world for the Next, youth and vigor cry lustily; synethsizing the two is bitter-sweet.

And the things they said about their father! Countless stories, told with love and admiration. How he adhered to every aspect of halacha (my friend showed me his Mishnah Berurah, a worn cover filled with pages come unbound from constant use with scrupulous notes in the margins) unhesitatingly. The halacha says a father must teach his child to swim, so there were swimming lessons. The halacha states that one must sleep on one side for part of the night and then shift to the other side. So he set an alarm to train himself to do just that. The halacha says a man must support his wife and children. So he worked as a math teacher.

The stories are magnificent and plentiful. There is a tangible reverence in the room for this great man who is no longer here, who changed the lives of so many through his righteous, God-directed actions. The beauty is in his children's effortless awe of their father--shining so bright and so strong. Clearly, this was a person who walked his talk inside his home as well as outside. He made an investment which will reap infinite dividends. His children, his grandchildren and very soon, his great-grandchildren have all been imbued with the radiance of the niftar's legacy. The newborn babies will be touched by it; their parents were directly raised with it. It spreads out in concentric circles and sets off a chain reaction of spiritual strength that will reverberate forever.

So powerful. So inspiring. And yet beyond all the uplifting words and the lofty understanding, the pain and sadness is so real. He is gone. He is loved. It is so hard.

There is so much we do not understand.