By Deb Silverthorn

“Yitgadal v’yitkadash sh’mei raba, Blessed be God’s great name to all eternity.”

The “Mourner’s Kaddish” doesn’t speak of death, but focuses on God’s greatness — homing in on faith when it is most tested. For a group at Congregation Shearith Israel, the self-dubbed minyanaires, sharing faith after losing a loved one has been an unexpected gift.

Between the end of 2018 and early 2019, Eula Coleman Fischl, Mel Meyers, Reuben Rosenbloom, Marvin M. Sigel and Tom Spigel passed away.

One by one, their children Patricia Kraines, Shelley Meyers, Brian Rosenbloom, Jan Shwarts, David Sigel, Jonathan Spigel and Gail Weisblatt began attending minyan in their memory. For more than five years, they’ve stuck by one another, making Monday nights a sacred commitment.

The minyanaires’ calendars are circled each Monday for 6 p.m. services, followed by dinner. As they catch up on one another’s families, work and each other, Mondays are sacred to each of them.

Shearith Israel’s Rabbi Avi Mitzner and longtime member David Karlebach have been at their side.

Spigel’s mother Sandra died when he was 8 years old, and he was not encouraged to say Kaddish for her. In November 2018, he was the first of the group to begin attending when his father Tom died.

“David (Karlebach) regularly attended minyan and Avi was there as ritual director. They were both instrumental in advising me of mourning observances,” he said. “I had no idea about the seven-day, 30-day or 11-month mourning periods. Sadly, shortly after I lost my father, more people were losing their parents; we began supporting each other.”

Sigel, a fourth-generation member of Shearith, didn’t recognize anyone when he first walked into minyan. He appreciated the gesture.

“When my mother Marilyn died in 1980, I went to services with my father and grandmother, but we’d say the prayers and then leave,” said Sigel. “Now, we had each lost a parent for whom having Kaddish said was important and the responsibility was heavy. As more gathered over those weeks, each wearing the mourner’s black ribbon, we began building this very special thing.”

The minyanaires began saving seats for one another as the weeks went on; when services moved to Zoom during the pandemic, they stayed together that way. While most don’t attend other daily services, they are all “on call” to get on the Zoom if needed to make the minyan.

“Going to minyan, and becoming connected to the mitzvah, has given me the strength to put my arm around someone new who comes to say Kaddish,” said Meyers, who is married to Mitzner. They have welcomed the group to their family’s sukkah.

Meyers is a teacher in Allen and the trek to Shearith isn’t an easy one, but it’s one that she wouldn’t miss.

“Seeing the same people rise at the same time, for the same prayer, created this bond,” she said. “We went through all the firsts — Mother’s and Father’s Days, Passover, High Holy Days — all without our people. People came for us and we try to be there for others.”

After visiting an Austin minyan and experiencing their tradition of having people share the names of those they are remembering, she returned to Shearith, where, during the week, that has been added.

While they met in moments of heartache and pain, since the Kraineses first invited everyone for a Shabbat meal it’s been lifecycle simchas, New Year’s Eve, each year’s second Passover Seder, the Fourth of July and more events together.

“Every definition of ‘community’ is what this friendship is,” said Mitzner, Shearith Israel’s newly minted rabbi and ritual director of many years. “Going to minyan daily may seem like a shlep but, clearly, you may come out of it having performed more than a mitzvah. You may end up with friends for the rest of your life. We shouldn’t be afraid of the word ‘obligation’ that comes with mitzvot.

“Mel was like a dad to me after I had lost mine years earlier and then my mother Myra died in 2022,” Mitzner added. “Everyone was going through this shared experience; truly the same thing, same time, with the same feelings.”

The second night of Passover is hosted by Shwarts and her husband Robin at a table filled with love and connections.

“When my dad George died in 1991, I went with Mom every night. When she passed, my sister and I started going,” she said. “Monday — I won’t book anything else. Services, dinners, trips to Israel and New York — so much is special.

Weisblatt, Shwarts’ sister, says their mother is watching over them and grateful they have not only each other but this tight circle.

“I moved away years ago and, when I returned, I’d lost touch with so many people. This group had suffered great losses but at the same time found this amazing blessing of friendship. More than friendship,” she said. “Nothing I’ve ever experienced has changed my life more for the better.”

As a funeral director at Sparkman Hillcrest, Karlebach is often at the side of mourners in their time of need and being a part of this group has him connecting regularly.

“My dad Bob died in 2012, and my mother Eve 18 months later. It’s heartbreaking to go and not have 10 people there. After I finished (saying Kaddish) for Mom, I decided to make it my thing,” said Karlebach. “As this group kept showing up, I suggested dinner together and it grew from there. We understand the importance of Kaddish and being there and we just don’t let it go.”

Patricia Kraines and her brother Brian Rosenbloom, whose spouses Howard and Merle have joined the crew, have in these years lost a brother Lawrence and, recently, their mother Essie, and the pain is fresh again. Walking the path with their friends-turned-family, they’re not alone.

Sigel, who visits the cemetery weekly, often stops at the gravesites of his friends’ family members even though he never knew them. When someone is ill or has surgery, the others send meals or help with transportation. When there’s a birthday, Monday’s dinner becomes a party.

“It’s remarkable how after almost six years we haven’t let go of one another and we never will,” said Sigel. “We’re connected in a way no one could imagine and we would all jump through hoops for one another.”