„I am now a widow, and still in my two week isolation and not able to come over to the synagogue tomorrow, but this is what I wrote down before the memorial held in the airbnb garden cottage where Elliott died next to me in South Africa (I never read it I only cried)… and would have shared with my Rabbis and friends here, who loved and kept praying for ‚Elliott ben Andrew‘.

… P. Elliott Smith went so very peacefully, an observant Jewish doctor (happened to be) gave him the day before he went to be with God, a pill called Stillpain, not for any pain but mild as such with the ability to give him some extra comfort to the doctor’s estimated ‚within a day or two‘ and so it was, also with the ability to sort of dry and clear his lungs that had started to fill up with fluid… it made him rest and fall somewhat asleep and his oxygen level almost went normal, the next day, his last, it seemed he didn’t need any. I was next to him on the bed all the time and from time to time I put on his finger the little thing to read the oxygen level and before he went on to be with God I saw it very low like falling from the 40s down and further down, back up a bit and then no numbers to read at all neither for heart or lungs, but it was so peaceful had the counter not told us, his son sat in the chair on the other side of the bed, we may not have known was he asleep or on his way. I kissed him, with my head by his head I sang for him and spoke my words of love to him and so it was. I captured the very moment ‚Gone Home‘ with my mobile, graphically as if seen – his soul was on his way.

My Elliott, we so belong to each other hardly death can separate us, I’ll carry you with me, as I did before you came to marry me in Jerusalem wherever I went. You so wanted to return, your words just two days before were, ”And, we’ll take the wheelchair with us.” You knew in one way or another on the first returning ELAL flight since Corona holdup – 15th of May as also was the date for leaving this lovely rented garden cottage that had no corona restrictions to it, we were to make it together. It so happened that flight was cancelled and the last and only flight moved to upcoming motze Shabbath the 8th. I felt the urgency by a few words of your old friend Ron’s visit, I had to skip their first flight on the 6th and came fastest way possible via Addis Abbaba instead. I saw how you had waited for me and we said our words “I love you” and I saw your gentle smile by your lips and eyes. We basically remained in the place and bed heavenly prepared by your sons for us. Had I waited to take that one and only straight Johannesburg/Tel Aviv flight I would have missed both your moving on and 80th birthday on the 5th. I love you P. Elliott Smith. Our love was at times disturbed and had some damages during our 12 and a half years together but never beyond repair. My heart remains yours and your heart mine and never will I return it. Heaven is high and the gate narrow. As no one comes into this world fully formed, marriage is for holiness.

I am taking you with me, repeating my words when you kept being tested corona positive 3 whole months, “Not Without My Husband”. As I flew back end of March when my South African visa was already one month expired I felt the mission was to get the passport vaccination and like Abraham did bought us a burial slot on a small International grave yard on Mt. Zion where I’ll be able to sort of see your resting place, ‚just a stone throw away‘ from our altogether loved balcony. And we’ll still be the team of two in the same garden. Life is eternal and love immortal, united with God how can you but live forever.“

Birgitta Yavari-Ilan