We place you in the casket, tie a few more knots, and swaddle you up.  I know almost nothing about your life in the more than ninety years since you were first swaddled, with awe and love, the same way we are doing it now.  But you did it, Bubbie. You’ve arrived at the last event.  We close the top of the casket, which is not to be reopened.  We were the last ones to witness your physical life.  Tomorrow, the people who really know you will gather to mourn and celebrate and cry and laugh and bury.

When performing a tahara, I have often noticed how the person’s face relaxes and she becomes more accepting of her death as we prepare her body.  This was true with Aunt Dina.  These women taught me that even a person who has been cruel deserves love and honor.  We are all equal in death.