There was no drama. It was simply time
Her children all knew the way she wanted to go.
She always said she wanted to go like her zeides went in der heim.
Back in Vilchovitz, both of her zeides passed on at her parents’ home when she was still a girl. She remembered it well. There were no sirens, no beeping, no sense of calamity. There was peace as each neshamah passed on to the next stage of their journeys. She wanted that, too.
Her father’s father, our Zeide Yankev Avraham, simply knew it was time. He handed his son Nachman a list of ten names of people he knew from the shtetl (or perhaps nine, if Nachman served as the tenth, some details have been lost to time), along with the request that he please collect them all. They’d form the minyan, he said.
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