Standing for Kaddish That First Time

They mentioned Dad’s name At temple tonight I stood up and stared ahead straight My heart palpitated My shoulders sagged just a bit Under this burden, this new sacred weight Out of the corner of my eye, I stole a glimpse here and there To discover just how I should act This age-old ritual felt new, As unfamiliar feelings did too I didn’t want to over- or under-react I stood up for Kaddish, And I stood in his memory Death and life at that moment juxtaposed And I felt it transform My essence, my life Like I just then became one of those You know, those people who stand, Because their loved ones are dead For a year before their lives are renewed Well I’m one of them now, ‘cause my daddy is gone I’m the stander, the mourner, I’m not you The leader in me, Up there on the stage Often presents with a backbone of steel But when it’s me who must stand, Like a regular man It’s different, it’s raw and it’s real When they mentioned Dad’s name At temple tonight Standing tall, I stared at the book, With love I recited The prayer on the page But inside like an earthquake I shook The introvert me, All alone with my loss, Might stand tall in the midst of that room But I stumbled through words Words I’ve never before heard And I wished I were back in the womb I guess no one enjoys The moment they must Be a mourner, making sure Kaddish is said But that’s what I’ll do For the memory of you... Gosh Dad, I wish you weren’t dead  

Explore more poetry about mourning Papa (my dad, Ken Kipnes). Watch my videos about mourning Enjoy more of my spoken word poetry