A good friend, about two months older than I am, passed away over the weekend. The third friend who passed away in the last six weeks. The funeral was yesterday.

It was an interesting funeral, for many reasons. There was a good sized crowd at Adas Israel for the funeral, plus many more who streamed the funeral on line. I would guess that I knew at least half of those present, and I knew everyone who spoke.

Many of those who attended are people I see on a fairly regular basis, and others included some I had not seen since the pandemic began three years ago. The most striking thing about all of these people is that they are old. Some are older than my 80 years, and some younger. But they all looked old, some looked a bit haggard, some struggled with mobility, some looked to have lost a considerable amount of weight. This is what happens when you near or pass 80. And of course, we are the lucky ones.

There were three speakers. One a rabbi emerita of the congregation, one another rabbi who was very close to my friend, and one a congregant whom he had known over 50 years. All spoke beautifully and very personally, much more personally than normal, because all had a long time personal friendship with my friend. They went through a lot of history – personal history, and they named a lot of names.

My friend, for example, belonged to a study group which has been in existence for over 50 years. We are not part of that study group – we have only belonged to this congregation for about 40 years. The members of that study group who have passed away were all named – probably about ten people, all of whom I had known. It certainly demonstrated the passage of time.

Often, I think about when I was very young, and how none of the adults whom I knew as a child are alive today. But yesterday, I realized how many of the adults I have known as an adult are also gone.

The burial was at one of the larger Jewish cemeteries in this area, in a portion of the cemetery which “belongs” to our congregation. The grave sites were mainly purchased years ago by Adas Israel and then resold to members. My wife and I have our plots in this location. Looking around, I realized I not only knew those of us who came to the burial, but I know many, if not most, of those who were lying under the ground. Was that frightening? I didn’t really look at it at fright – it was more comforting than frightening. Emotions are such strange things.