It does no harm— in these pre-Tishah B’Av days— to keep both Tehillim 90 and, l’havdil, Donne’s question in the back of the mind
The notices, sadly, appear much too frequently, and inform us that someone has passed away, and after detailing the funeral and shivah information, try to describe in a few lines the life and personality of the deceased: He was a tzaddik, a lamdan, a revered teacher and talmid chacham, a generous benefactor of money and energy, a devoted father and husband (or selfless mother and wife), a courageous exemplar of Yiddishkeit, a devoted Jew, an inspiration to all who knew him or her. Occasionally, in cases of revered leaders, he was all of these, and more. Although these encomia seem boilerplate, many of them are undoubtedly true and well deserved.
Unfortunately, these ornate tributes do not last very long. Within the week, sometimes even within 48 hours, the notice and its eulogy are gone and forgotten, obliterated by a fresh funeral notice plastered on top of it. These departed are surely heading for eternal life, but their death notices have a transient shelf life.
We who stroll by pause for a moment and glance at these announcements. Hmm, anyone we know? No. Well, sorry about this. We mumble a Baruch Dayan HaEmes and continue to our various destinations.
These posters are helpful and informative, but although they convey sadness, and represent grief and tears and mourning and bereft families, and while we may sigh in sympathy, they are, at least for most onlookers, irrelevant.
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