In Hebrew, ‘ben’ (בן) means ‘son’ or ‘son of’.
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David Bogomolny was born in Jerusalem to parents who made Aliyah from the USSR in the mid-70’s. He grew up in America, and returned to Israel as an adult. He works for Hiddush – Freedom of Religion in Israel. He and his wife and daughter live in Jerusalem.
He began writing the ‘Skeptic’s Kaddish for the Atheist’ in Jerusalem, Israel, 30 days after burying his father in South Brunswick, New Jersey, USA. His series was originally published on the Times of Israel blogs.
Hi there, glad to meet you. I just the your poem section. Loved the recent one about your father. I guess I understand the feeling of knowing other languages
nice to meet you too 😀
I’ve written two poems about my father:
1) https://skepticskaddish.com/2020/05/08/natural-english-or-sidespin/
2) https://skepticskaddish.com/2020/06/10/beast-or-memoir/
But most of poetry isn’t about him… even though his death was the catalyst for the creation of this blog.
I am sorry to hear. But you are doing a great job by remembering through our poems. I have a very curious question why did you call your blog skeptic kaddish and you have a section of your blog called kaddish year.
well, the “kaddish” is a traditional Jewish mourning ritual, and I wanted to commit myself to it… but I struggle with faith, and I struggle with much of the mythology behind the purpose of “kaddish”… Also, my father was an atheist, and he was not interested in ritual… so I felt that I had to research and write about “kaddish” for at least two major reasons: 1) to preserve my sanity by giving myself a voice in response to the tradition, and 2) to honor my intellectual father by researching and personalizing the experience of “kaddish” so that it would be more than simply a ritual – but rather something truly meaningful.
Wow so much of meaning behind your blog. I learnt something today. Got to appreciate the thought though.You truly are creating a world of your own through our work.
Thank you!
The pleasure is all mine:)
thank you for the typos….i didn’t notice it. hahaha,,,,i just re-read it once…..thanks again !
my pleasure!
Good to meet you, Ben! I also have learnt something here, and it’s never too late to learn! Ashley
Likewise, Ashley 🙂
I’m not so young myself – in my forties!
Sorry Ben, that is young! I’m not quite twice your age at 70 and I’m not sure I’m a match for your wit and wisdom here! But like I said, I’m here to learn. PS I’m in Northern Ireland and have no Jewish connections that I’m aware of.
Ashley, I’ve never been to Ireland, but I do enjoy Irish whiskey 🥃
P.S. Thank you so much for the kind compliment!
P.P.S. Ultimately, we’re all just human. Real wisdom is recognizing that, I think.
You visited and liked my blog, so now I return the courtesy. I truly like your blog, the memories, stories you tell, and thoughts you explore seemingly all related to multi-cultural Judaism as you follow your family’s trek from Russia to Israel to the US and back and forth. I know how much effort you put into this–thank you for it.
Thank you so much – that’s very kind of you. My name is David, BTW. It’s nice to meet you!
Oh so sad to hear about your father.but you are a best writer.please continue your this great job.
Thank you very much, Aruna!
Welcome,dear!!
Beautiful piece about your father David. Really thoughtful, thought provoking and interesting. I was surprised to hear he was an atheist but everyone knows who reads my blog that I am not only a believer but have enormous faith. Although I respect everyones choice to worship their religion, of course. I just found that interesting. I love the way you ending this tribute to your father. Your unique style of writing is very lovely. Love and hugs, Joni
Thanks, Joni.
I’m not an atheist myself (that’s why this is the skeptic’s kaddish), but I am certainly not somebody of enormous faith by ANY stretch… judging by the people that I’ve met throughout my life, I’ve found almost no correlation between those who are goodhearted and those who have faith. There are wonderful people who believe, and there are horrible people who believe. There are wonderful people who don’t believe, and there are horrible people who don’t believe. That’s what I’ve found 🙂
You are 100 percent right my friend. I hope if you met me in a store and we had some sort of exchange you would be able to see a light in me that made you wonder what my thing was. I can spot a person with great faith in a store sometimes without talking to them and I will say, “Your a person of great faith aren’t you!” Usually the person will smile and share a bit of their story. Have a blessed evening my friend. Hugs 🤗 Joni
Oddly enough, I was enjoying an Irish whiskey while I read. I enjoyed your most recent post although I know nothing of religion or poetry. Thank you.
Wait, why is that odd? I consider it perfectly normal 🙂
Cheers! 🥃
David
Hi, Ben, I noticed that after reading my post once almost two months ago and leaving enthusiastic comments, you are since popping up regularly to tell me that you liked my comment here or there. I have stopped reading your posts because it is a common courtesy to read each other work.
Joanna
Hi, Joanna.
My ‘liking’ a comment of yours on somebody else’s blog is sincere and has nothing to do with either your blog or mine. I have no expectations that you or anyone else will read my blog. Personally, I have found that I am especially drawn to poetry blogs and blogs that share personal narratives.
I wish you all the very best,
David
You been on hollys David? Welcome back. You’ve returned with a rush. Phew….
It’s just getting hard to keep up with so many blogs, Don!
No need to apologise. I can completely understand….
Hello, I could not post a response on You recetn dverse prompt on endings and beginnings, it moved me greatly, I will try to intrude with my response here, Peace friend:
between the tears and the oceans so many waters divide us from when we want to drink them down the useless waves that don’t even know it seems we tried to leave them flopping or insinuating first out of primordial mud but still they drag us back there is that one thing for a while at least they will never have the inkling of depths we have never seen but know are there within them in the darkness and the fires exploding across reaches all so useless compared to that we hold here for this flash in this beautiful pan holding those children tight until they leave joy in glorious flight while bereaved we look back none of this can be done it seems by either the oceans or the stars we hold those also from whom we sprang and that little wave that you are raising on that shore may yet still carry that same smell of recognition and arms encircling like the moon that pulls the waters and the rock it dances round and the vaults of heaven crawling across a horizon where our eyes fool us as we actually whirl with them through this emptiness that is not a void so useless except that here we are knowing this all somehow for a time so what do the stars or the waters know anyway of that love anyway?
love your poem, sad for your loss, hope your mother is not alone, glad for your love that shines through, so nice to meet you.
-Lona
Lona, wow, your words are so magical and poetic. I am deeply moved. thank you so much for commenting!
-David
Thank you David. All peace to you.
Thank you for your thoughts. I’m struggling with grief on a new level. It was brutal when my father died. We were close and it was a bit unexpected. Mom was difficult, but death from old age isn’t unexpected. This year I lost my son. There are no words. I’m so grateful for your poetry and writing. It was what I needed this morning. Blessings in the New Year!
Gregory,
I… am deeply sorry to hear about your loss. When I was writing about my father’s death during that first year after he died, I actually thought about how much more horrible it would have been to have lost somebody else, even as horrible as his death was to me.
In THIS POST, I wrote on June 23, 2019:
As you say, and as I can only very humbly repeat:
I am deeply, deeply sorry.
In Jewish tradition, when someone dear dies, the traditional words of comfort to the mourners are:
Yours,
David