May Her Memory Be a Revolution

Author: Avital O’Glasser, MD

Earlier this week, I saw a tweet that it was the second anniversary (in the Gregorian calendar) of RBG’s death. My mind immediately jumped to the fact that this coming Monday would be the second anniversary of her death on the Jewish lunar calendar.  

This coming Sunday night is the beginning of Rosh Hashanah, one of the holiest days of the Jewish annual cycle.  Rosh Hashanah is one of the holiest days of the Jewish year in addition to Yom Kippur. For Rosh Hashanah, we wish people a “sweet new year”, sweet like the honey we dip apples in.  May our “sweet” year be sweet in connection, sweet in engagement, sweet in deeply meaningful acts and experiences, and sweet in being constructive rather than destructive.

Do you remember where you were or what you were doing when you learned two years ago that RBG had passed away? I do.

I had just gone outside after it had rained–the first substantial rain we received after a horrific stretch of Oregon wildfires.  After the horrific first six months of the pandemic.  I was standing outside breathing in clean air for the first time in two weeks, and I tweeted that “it really felt like the physical and metaphysical ‘separation’ I needed” going into the new year.  It really felt like a demarcation, and with it brought a new hope that the evil, pain, and sadness of the preceding year would be washed away.  It was quite literally a new breath of air and a new hope for the coming year.

And then it all came crashing down.  Shortly after the start of Rosh Hashanah (sundown on September 18th) on the east coast, and shortly before the start of Rosh Hashanah where I lived on the west coast–we learned that RBG had died.  All the hope and joy and optimism was ripped out from under us.

The fall Jewish High Holidays focus their imagery and spiritual weight on being evaluated for your past year.  We reference the Book of Life and the Book of Death.  Strictest interpretations and traditions believe that our fate for the coming year–life or death–is decided that week.  There are many modernistic interpretations of this that are less fatalistic and instead focus on “how” we live, not “if” we live.  

But Jewish tradition also has a very interesting interpretation of what it means to die at that transition point of the year–that these are the most righteous people amongst us.  Nina Totenberg shared this wisdom the night of RBG’s death:  “A Jewish teaching says that those who die just before the Jewish new year are the ones that God has held back until the last moment because they were needed most and were the most righteous.” That even though one is destined to die in a specific calendar year, that God holds back until the very last moment in order for someone to maximize the good they brought to the world.  My own grandmother died the night before Rosh Hashanah 14 years ago.  The significance of the timing was not new to me two years ago–and that powerful ancient tradition brought a new gravitas to RBG’s death that holiday period.  

Part of the Yom Kippur service involves beating our breasts as a sign of atonement–and we did that a week after RBGs death. But many women and allies–Jewish and non-Jewish–beat our breasts that Rosh Hashanah as we feared what was to come with the open Supreme Court seat during Trump’s presidency.  The emotions and the fear were real and raw. 

And two years later, we have sadly been validated.  Those who gaslighted us and told us not to be histrionic have been proven wrong.  Our Cassandras have been proven correct.  Our anticipatory sorrow has since materialized in many ways including June’s decision in the Dobbs case overturning Roe v Wade–and mirroring our sorrow two years ago, the descending appearance carried the power refrain  “With Sorrow”.   

On the anniversary of a loved one’s death, Jews say the Mourners’ Kaddish, the Mourner’s Prayer. But mourning, and remembering one’s passing even years later, is not about being locked in the past.  It’s about looking forward.  It’s about memory and legacy.  Jews do not say “rest in peace”.  We say zichron l’bracha–“may her memory be a blessing”.

“May her memory be a BLESSING”--this may be ringing a bell.

“May her memory be a REVOLUTION”--you may have seen that rallying cry two years ago. For many, RBGs death and the timing of her death were a call that “we all need to work for justice.”

It’s been a long two years–a very long two years.  The dangers in the world that we need to fight against persist–from COVID-19 to attacks on abortion access to gun violence to climate change.  From structural racism to misogyny to the “phobias” (transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia, and more).  And politicians continue to use the legal and political system to perpetuate these dangerously hateful attitudes–and the courts stacked by the former president continue to contribute to this.  But this is not without opposition.  Many, especially women, continue to work to live up to RBG’s edict that women “belong in all the places where decisions are being made”.

There is work to be done–so let’s do it.  There is activism and advocacy to be done–so let’s do it.  RBG’s closest family will stand up this weekend and recite the Mourner’s Prayer.  At the Yom Kippur service next week, many will attend the traditional annual memorial service. We will pray that the memories we remember will be blessings and fuel. May RBG’s memory continue to be a blessing–may it continue to be a revolution.

About the authors: Avital O’Glasser, MD, is a hospitalist at Oregon Health & Science University and the editor of the WIMS blog (Twitter: @aoglasser).