This page is for those of us who have lost loved ones, and want to honor their lives and what they meant to us. These are the people who shaped our lives and set us on the path to finding the Eternal. Losing a loved one is one of the most traumatic things we can go through. The ways of mourning in Judaism helps us through the stages of grief, and through it all we keep focused on the Most High. In the Kaddish, a prayer that is recited by those in mourning, neither death nor the deceased is ever mentioned. It is a prayer of praise to YHWH, the Most Righteous Judge, Creator of all things, and our acceptance of His will.
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May His illustrious name become increasingly great and holy
In the world that He created according to His will, and
may He establish His kingdom
And may His salvation flourish and the Messiah come soon
In your lifetime and in your days
and in the lifetime of all the house of Israel
Speedily and soon. And say amein
May His illustrious name be blessed always and forever.
Blessed, praised, glorified, exalted, extolled
Honoured, raised up and acclaimed
be the name of the Holy one blessed be He
beyond every blessing hymn, praise and consolation
that is uttered in the world. And say amein
May abundant peace from heaven, and good life
Be upon us and upon all Israel. And say amen
May He who makes peace in His high places
Make peace upon us and upon all Israel,
And say amein
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The Reverend Lucy J. Liggon was a woman of God, who loved people and worked tirelessly for the kingdom. The day before she died, she was out knocking door to door in the neighborhood to get parents to send their children to Sunday School. To me she was "nana". Nana and I were very close. We went every where together. I was at her house almost as much as I was at my own. I have read that matriarchs of Sephardic families often select one young female family member and teach her everything they know. This was very much the case with my Nana. My love of YHWH is because she was responsible for all my spiritual training. She instilled in me a love of my God, my Messiah and His Word. My first child, is named after her, and her memory lives on as I endeavor to serve our Master.
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Clarence Anderson Liggon, was my Nana's second husband. My biological grandfather died when my mother was a young girl. Pop-Pop was the best grandfather a girl could ever have, and I was blessed to have him in my life. He often "rescued" me from the "clutches" of my mother who was determined for me to learn everything needed to participate in normal day to day life. One story was that I was forced to sit on the potty, and not allowed to get up until I had used it. Of course I couldn't stand just sitting there! Pop-pop would (more than once, I'm told) put water in the potty, then take it to my mother. She would of course let me up. I was saved - only to wet my clothes a few minutes later! She only fell for that one a couple of times! Pop-pop and I would often sit on the back steps eat tomatoes out of my grandmother's garden with salt. And because I had a phobia of dentists, he was the only one who could take me. Pop-pop was VERY cool. In fact his nickname was "Cool C" When he died I was 12 years old. It was my first experience with death, and the pain was so great I thought I would not survive - but of course I did, and I will always treasure those wonderful special memories.
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Vida Esther Rowser, my mother was a woman who loved God, and did her very best to follow him. I am the woman am I am today because of her loving devotion to her family, and the way she cared for raised us. She had known my father since they were children, and they were married for 50 years before she was called to Abraham's bosom. Mom loved her grandchildren, and was always spending time with them. She would have sleep overs at her house for the girls and they would watch movies and do their hair into the wee hours. She was also secretly generous. On more than one occasion during a period of time when my husband was laid off, she would leave bags of groceries on our door step, ring the bell, and then go running to her car and speed off down the road. After we moved out of the state, even though she didn't like to fly, she flew to Nebraska to visit us several times while we lived there. I loved making my mother laugh, and her smile would light up a room. She was beautiful inside and out, and had a very keen sense of style. Later in life she suffered from rheumatoid arthritis and for the last several years of her life was bedridden. However, she NEVER lost her faith because of her circumstances. She always said she was going to walk again, in this life or the next, and I know that she is walking AND dancing now. We didn't always see eye to eye as mothers and daughters are apt to do, but I love her with all my heart, and she is a true inspiration to me.
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My father, Alphonso L. Rowser, was called home on March 1 2010. This is very difficult for me because he so recently passed, and yes, I will admit, I am a daddy's girl. When I was little he would tell me how special I was, and how special our family was, and I took great pride in being a Rowser at a very young age. So much so that I was more than a little annoyed with my husband who didn't want me to hyphenate my maiden and married name. (Apparently he thought Veirs were special too!) My father enjoyed my irritation more than just a little. He was my hero. I wanted to do everything he did. If he had a favorite food, it was mine too. Because of him I became an avid football and baseball fan. We watched all the games together, and when I moved away, and could watch the games, I would always cheer for our team - no matter what. Do you know how dangerous it is to to cheer for Philadelphia when you're in Texas - or Penn State when you're in Nebraska? He was always saying or doing something to make me laugh. And then there were the things I did to him that are funny now, but definitely were not then. For instance, bringing my cymbals home from band practice and sneaking into his room while he was asleep and giving them a great big clang. Needless to say, I didn't bring those home anymore. He worked hard all his life, and was an employee of the post office for 52 years. He only retired just a few months before he passed away. At work they called him the "candy man." He was always giving out candy. If some one was having a bad day, he would give them candy, if someone had a headache, candy was the cure. He took care of my mother until she died, while also working full time, taking care of the cleaning, cooking, and laundry. He was always generous with his family and friends. and he was an accomplished artist. My son Samuel, has inherited his talent and is now attending art school. Samuel was accepted into the school the day after his grandfather died. Whenever I did something for him, he would say, "You're so good to me!" Well, daddy, you were so wonderful to me! I miss you.
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My father Rev. George Camilleri departed this life on July 22, 2007. I could write volumes about the gentle, humble, and kind man that he was but, what I would like to share are the last moments of his life. HaShem allowed me the honor of being there the moment he left this world for the eternal. Mingled with my heavy grief was an experience that will stay with me always. As my father was taking his last breaths I began to hear distant music, like a parade, coming closer and closer. It was singing, singing in what sounded a lot like Hebrew! It was not the cherubic catholic cathedral choir one normally imagines heaven to sound like, but a simple, joyous celebration. A sound similar to what you would hear during an ultra-orthodox wedding procession. I remember thinking that I was hearing things, that perhaps my grief had consumed me. Then my mother turned to me and said’ “Do you hear that? Their coming to bring my love home”. She was hearing it too! For a moment, we heard heaven. The Almighty Creator of the universe pulled back the curtain just enough for us to hear the celebration, the eternal celebration that is waiting for us in His kingdom. I miss my dad, he had this loud boom of a laugh that would fill the house. I miss hearing it, but I know that someday, I will hear it again. I love you dad. Thank you for living a life of example, thank you for proclaiming The Almighty Elohim with every breath of your life, even your last.
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Rest gently in the bosom of Avraham and glory in the goodness of The Eternal.
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If you would like to honor the memory of a loved one, please email a picture and a tribute about the length of the ones above and email to editor@sarahstent.info
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