The Foreign Service Journal, April 2011

M y grandfather is rolling over in his grave! An Orthodox Jew, he wouldn’t even pick up a coin on the Sabbath, much less use electricity. On Yom Kippur he prayed and prayed, andmade sure all nine chil- dren did, as well, both in the synagogue and at home. But my situation is dif- ferent, requiring creativity, forgiveness and acceptance — for my husband, George, is in Iraq and I am not. He is in a trailer, and I’m in our home in Great Falls, Va. From those two dis- tant points we try to come together to share and to find meaning that bridges the miles. Welcome to Skype! With it I can see his face, hear his voice, feel con- nected to him. Each YomKippur we have had a tra- dition of lighting the yahrzeit candles to honor our dead parents. My father and mother did it this exact same way, light- ing candles not on the anniversary of their parents’ death, but on Yom Kip- pur. We’ve carried this forward into our generation and wherever we have been in the world, we’ve lit the candles and said what we needed to say about the year that passed and the year to come. Until this year, the most memorable lighting for me took place in 1992 — the year we went to Tibet with our boys, Ben andGabe, and a whole group from the U.S. embassy. While in Lhasa, the capital, we visited the holiest of holies for Tibetan Buddhists, the Jokhund Temple. In that sacred place, we were given permission to light our candles and place them on the altar with hun- dreds of prayer scarves left by visitors and the statues and candles represent- ing Tibetan Buddhism. At the time, we only needed two candles, one for my father and one for my father-in-law—both gone the same year, 1989. I remember our comment- ing as we lit the candles how much our fathers would have gotten a kick out of this, for they were both very adventur- ous and accepting. Indeed, leaving the lights for our fa- thers in the Jokhund meant that in the farthest reaches of the world, we re- membered them, and honored them, and showed our sons the importance of the tradition. I remember feeling that my heart was so full it might burst as the tears rolled down my face. Fast-forward to 2010 — 5777 in the Jewish calendar. My husband is gone, but we haven’t lost touch. I got the yahrzeit candles ready — they now number four, including one for my mother and one for my American Field Service “sister,” Noelle. And then George was on Skype and I saw him, feeling his presence even though he was thousands of miles away. We talked for a while, as I sat at my desk in the office, and we waited until the sun went down and the earth turned. I don’t remember who came up with the idea to bring the computer to the great room where the candles waited. Nor do I remember who said to aim the camera so as to see the lighting. I put the computer on the coffee table and moved the lamps into George’s view. I lit them, and we saw each flame come to life on the little screen! Then it was time for sharing thoughts. George asked for my forgive- ness for going to Iraq, saying that if it hurt me, he was sorry and lovedme very much. I told him that I knew his leav- ing did not reflect how he felt about me, but rather his sense of duty. See, sweetie, I do understand. It isn’t a question of forgiveness; it is a question of acceptance. In that mo- ment, we were together, watching the lights, feeling love and the sadness of being apart, but also the hopefulness that next year — not in Jerusalem, but in Great Falls —we would be together again, lighting the yahrzeit lamps. God bless technology! Lee-Alison Sibley is the author of Jor- dan’s JewishDrama Queen (BookSurge Publishing, 2009). Her FSO husband, George, is currently the senior adviser to Northern Iraq based out of Kirkuk. In that moment, we were together, watching the lights, feeling love and the sadness of being apart. 76 F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L / A P R I L 2 0 1 1 R EFLECTIONS The Lights B Y L EE -A LISON S IBLEY