Walt

My (former) father-in-law, Walter Heiman, passed away this past week.

I don’t know what happens after one’s final day on earth, but I hope if he hasn’t already that Walt soon meets up with Elaine, his wife of many years. From what I understand, his last words were “I am going to see Elaine.” Ironically, the anniversary of her death was just one day before his passing.

The fact that he will no longer be in this world as a living, breathing presence is a big loss for many of us, for our own reasons, including for me. He was always so warm and loving to me, and I will forever be grateful that he was one of my two dads, a special friend and the most amazingly awesome PopPop.  

When he died, thoughts of him flooded my mind. I pictured seeing him for the first time, when I went to my then-boyfriend Bob’s house to meet his parents. I was impressed with how clean and tidy their home was and thought they must’ve made it that way because I was coming over, which made me extra nervous. I soon learned that’s their status quo. Walt immediately put me at ease by telling a joke or two, or three.    

Over time, I witnessed everyone in Walt’s orbit laughing with him; joking around with people was how he developed a rapport and kept them smiling and engaged. My kids refer to his sense of humor as “PopPop jokes” and even though some were over-the-top silly, they did what they were intended to do: open the door to have some fun with each other, despite all the other stuff going on in the world.  

As much as I enjoyed his charm, what I appreciate more than anything was that he loved so freely with all his heart and soul. 

I was grateful that his funeral was livestreamed through Platt Funeral Home and that I could also participate in the two nights of shiva via Zoom.  

The Jewish observance of “shiva” traditionally lasts for 7 days and provides an opportunity for prayer and comfort for the mourners. In pre-COVID times, friends and family would fill a mourner’s home and while noshing on sweets would move around the rooms sharing stories and memories. It always felt cathartic to me to have so many people together who cared so deeply for the person who died.

The Zoom shiva made it possible for those same people (and maybe more) to gather – with ease – for Walt, which was significant given our limitations during this challenging time of coronavirus. If it wasn’t for Zoom, the likelihood is that there would still be a lot of mourning going on but loved ones would be going through it alone.    

Another benefit I found with the Zoom shiva is that it allows for all those in attendance to listen to everyone's remarks. For example, I had the chance to hear multiple people reference Walt’s jokester qualities and the pride he had in his family. Even though I knew these things, I wouldn’t necessarily have spoken with that individual at an in-person shiva and/or maybe he/she wouldn’t have made that same comment to me.      

My kids and others in the family didn’t say much during the Zoom session, and I know they have zillions of recollections that I would’ve loved to have heard once again that I think they would have shared in a more intimate setting.

There’s no doubt that for me personally, electronic shiva lacked some of the therapeutic powers of in-person shiva, but it sure beat no shiva participation.

Like everything else in this pandemic, we’ve had to adapt; however, not being able to share the same physical space while grieving has been the most difficult.

Walt, you will be missed.