Dust in the wind......

So, on shabbos I found out that one of the people who lives in the neighborhood's mother died. I knew this neighbor pretty well, because she's hungarian, and she's made me some hungarian dishes for me and sent them over with her kids to give me a little taste of home. She was worried that there wouldn't be a minyan of shomrei shabbos at the levaya, so a few guys from yeshiva, including yours truly, went. It's a million degrees, and the sun is baking down. The kind of day you'd rather spend lounging around, doing nothing but soaking the rays up like a lizard on a rock, but instead, I find myself sweating away in my hat and jacket, listening to the eulogies. After the hespadim were done, they turned to us strapping young lads to start filling the grave up.
So the five of us start shoveling away, as the chazan recites Kel Molei Rachamim in a haunting voice, and all I have running through my head is that song from Kansas, Dust In The Wind. At that moment, it all seemed to make sense, and I was struck by the profundity of the song. It was only when I got a kick in the shins from one of the guys that I realized I was humming it to myself.......
Still in all seriousness, once again I was struck with the same observation that I've had numerous times at different funerals: when the burial is finished, there's still a small pile of dirt left off to the side; the replacement of the space the body is now taking up. It's a real slap in the face to realize that, like Shlomo Hamelech said, "Hakol hevel", at the end of the day, whatever plans you make, whatever success you have, at the end, you return full circle to where you began: dust. It's a lesson, one that recedes in to the background all too fast. The clock is ticking; what kind of testimony are we giving?
Definitely food for thought.......
Originally posted Tuesday, 12 July 2005