Shiva at Lea's

Dad's funeral took place last Friday. In accordance with Jewish law the closest male relation/s have to come in and identify the deceased before the burial can take place (in our case an exception was made to allow my sister Lea to see dad after she missed seeing him at the hospital, having returned from NYC moments too late before he was taken from the ward to the mortuary). My brother, as is his wont acted as though he was hosting a cocktail party, talking loudly and incessantly, gesticulating wildly, calling out to his common law wife when we were called to identify the deceased: "Mammy (the nickname he bestowed upon her), you wanna come in too?"
The service, first under a shaded area where prayers were made in front of the shrouded body (dad wanted a coffin but the rabbis vetoed it as unbecoming). I then read the eulogy. Then the short procession to the grave site, so short in fact that we had to kind of take a bit of a detour to give it some substance. My mum was supported by my sister Lea, who was crying and (I suspect) guilt ridden for having gone to the US while my dad was still ill in hospital. To give her her due, she was assured by the doctors that dad was stable and there was no urgency in his condition, serious as it was. Plus, she has practically been running both my parents lives for them in the last few years quite unselfishly, seeing to absolutely every aspect from major health issues to bringing home-cooked food to them, you get the picture.
The service was very well-attended, with the Mayor of Ramat Hasharon, my home town, and other dignitaries from my dad's military career, not to mention family and friends spanning several generations. Mum was pleased with that. She did mutter right after I gave the eulogy: "it went on a bit, didn't it?". Lea, in floods of tears, and I, emotional and choked as we were, almost had a fit of giggles! She later told me she loved my speech...
Afterward we repaired to Lea's house in Herzliya and the Shiva, the seven days of mourning commenced. We are a secular family, although both my parents come from a religious background. Their way of life was shattered during World War II, and by the time they emerged from the horror they were a greatly changed persons. We kept some of the traditions, but in a largely modern Israeli society we were brought up in a Jewish-Lite fashion. Therefore, we don't really follow every rule to the letter. I don't shave, and I wear the customary "torn" clothing: some old T-shirt with a small tear in the neck, the same T-shirt I wore for the funeral. Lea washes it every night, and I have it clean and fresh in the morning (against the rules, as I was told!). We decided to do the Shiva at Lea's as hers is the largest and the most accessible place. Also, she works at Ramat Hasharon City Council, and gets by far the largest number of visitors. Throughout the day every day the entire workforce seem to call, from the cleaners to the Mayor. This grates on my brother Benny no end, and gives me the kind of glee I know is so wrong, yet so pleasant.
More on the ins and outs of the Shiva in my next blog.