In Memory of Chatzi Katz A”H
We live in a fast paced world. Amidst the noise of daily life, we often forget to pause.
We rush past each other, consumed by our own stories.
We overlook the quiet heroes among us, the gentle neshomos whose goodness remains hidden, even as they breathe.
We live in an environment that celebrates success, power, and fame. In this landscape, quiet kindness goes unnoticed.
We overlook the acts of simcha and chessed that shape our lives. We overlook the warm smile. We overlook the comforting word. We overlook the listening ear.
These moments are eclipsed by louder narratives, and we fail to see the beauty in the mundane.
But suddenly life comes to a screeching halt.
Our friend collapses and is suddenly nifter.
Suddenly the person we knew and cheppered is no longer alive.
Suddenly the gentle co-worker or fellow shul goer is gone.
Gone forever.
We now realize what we had, and suddenly get awakened to what we don’t have. A spotlight shines on their life. Suddenly, their stories emerge. We gather to share memories, to recount their acts of chessed. We speak of their unbelievable personality, their resilience, their love, how they were such a good person. We honor them in ways we never did while they were alive.
But why?
Why did we wait?
Why do we wait for death to illuminate their maalos?
Why does the finality of life turn our gaze inward, prompting us to reflect on what we failed to see?
Why does it take us only Achrei-Mos to see the kedoshim?
The answer may lie buried deep within our hearts, tangled in our minds and vulnerability.
We fear.
We fear that by recognizing the maalos in others it’ll require us to open our hearts.
We fear it’ll demand vulnerability, and a willingness to connect deeply. We fear this connection may expose us to pain.
We fear we may lose those we cherish.
So, we hold back.
We choose silence over admiration.
We choose indifference over affection.
We choose cynicism over chizzuk.
We choose ignoring over connecting.
It may be easier to reflect on the past than to engage with the present. We feel safe in nostalgia. We romanticize what we’ve lost, forgetting to cherish what we have. In this dance with grief, we find ourselves entangled. We mourn not only the departed but also our missed opportunities.
Regret seeps into our souls.
We wish we had said more.
We hope we had shown appreciation.
We replay conversations in our minds, haunted by the words left unspoken.
In the end, we realize that the goodness we celebrated too late was always there, waiting for us to notice.
There is a lesson in this somber reflection.
A call to action.
Let us not wait for the veil of death to lift the shadows.
Let us recognize the goodness in those around us while they still breathe.
Let us speak our truths, share our admiration, and celebrate the quiet heroes among us.
Life is fragile.
Each moment is a gift. And yet, we often take it for granted. We assume there will always be time. But time is elusive. It slips through our fingers like grains of sand. We are left with unfulfilled promises and unexpressed love.
So, let us choose differently.
Let us embrace vulnerability.
Let us acknowledge the beauty in the ordinary.
Let us celebrate the lives intertwined with our own.
Let us speak the words we often hold back.
In doing so, we will create a tapestry of connection.
A legacy of love that transcends the shadows of regret. We can honor the living, not just the departed.
We can shine a light on the goodness that exists right now.
In the end, it is not the absence of life that brings clarity. It is the presence of achdus. Let us choose to see it. Let us choose to celebrate it. Before it is too late.
Chatzi we miss you.
Chatzi we love you.
Chatzi you will never be forgotten.
Link: HABACHUR CHATZI KATZ A”H
