Living a Year of Kaddish: A Memoir

by Ari Goldman

The best-selling author of The Search for God at Harvard continues his spiritual quest in this heartfelt and poignant account of the year he spent saying kaddish for his father.

The day after Ari Goldman celebrated his fiftieth birthday his father died of a heart attack, and Goldman began the ritual year of mourning required by Jewish law. There were the obligations (the daily recitation of kaddish in a
synagogue quorum of ten), the prohibitions (no listening to music or buying new clothes), and the self-examination that the death of a parent and the mourning rituals triggered. Death meant coming to terms with a father he loved but never fully understood, in part because of his parents’ divorce and its stormy aftermath.

Goldman explores the emotional and spiritual aspects of spending a year in mourning, as he examines its effects on him as a husband, father, and member of his community. Left without parents (his mother died four years earlier), he is no longer a son to anyone, but he comes to understand that through the daily recitation of kaddish, he can both connect with and honor his mother and his father in a way that he could not always do during their lifetimes. And in his daily synagogue attendance—usually near his Manhattan home but also, during the course of his travels in Israel, the Catskills, and France—he finds his fellow worshipers to be an unexpected source of strength, wisdom, and comfort.

Living a Year of Kaddish is a deeply affecting journey through grief, loss, and acceptance—a book that will resonate for people of all faiths who struggle with the inevitability of losing the ones they love.

Genres: Nonfiction, Judaism, Memoir, Religion, Grief, Biography

210 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2003

Reviews

[Lauren Bull]

As I approach the one year anniversary of my brother’s passing, I figured that now is as good a time as any to finally read this book that I’ve been hoarding from Hillel.

The Mourner’s Kaddish is one of the many facets of Judaism that I have come to admire within the past year. Kaddish is a prayer in memory of the dead that - surprisingly enough - makes no mention of death. At its most basic, literal level, Mourner’s Kaddish is a prayer glorifying God. It praises Him for creating life and expresses desire for a bright future in His image.

What I find fascinating about Kaddish is that it is a prayer exalting life recited in memoriam for a person whom life has taken. It is a shout-out to God recited by a person who is likely angry, confused, and/or upset by God in the aftermath of a tremendous loss. But that is exactly why I love it. Just like mourning itself, the Mourner’s Kaddish is cathartic and challenging. Reciting Kaddish is also difficult for me on a demographic level, as well. I am a non-Jew saying Kaddish for a Catholic. None of that makes sense.

But, Kaddish has given both Goldman and me some semblance of peace, largely found in the community in which Kaddish lives. My favorite aspect of this memoir is Goldman’s stories of how the people in his minyan (a quorum of ten who also recite Kaddish) changed his life. The minyan serve as a community, allowing the mourner to escape isolation in a time when it is often desirable to be alone. Saying Kaddish for my brother brought me out of isolation and into an environment of compassion. Even if I was the only bereaved reciting Kaddish, everyone was there to say “Amen” to Alex. I remember the day my friend brought me to service for the first time, intent on my witnessing a healthy expression of grief and determined to eventually get me opening up again. I am so grateful for that day.

There’s one last point I want to make, and then I will shut up. I throughly enjoyed how easy of a read this was - it is actually accessible to mourners. Despite being an English major and living and breathing books, I could not read for about a month after my brother passed (maybe even longer). It took a while to start reading consistently again, because every time I looked at words on a page my head would start to spin. It seems as though Goldman knew this firsthand and acted accordingly. That is all.

[Karen]

I liked the idea of this memoir -- a narrative of Goldman's experience saying kaddish every day for the mourning period after his father's death -- but the execution didn't live up to the promise.

I was also annoyed at him for his gender politics. He and his family belong to an Orthodox shul, even though his wife prays with an egalitarian congregation. Then, when his daughter has her bat mitzvah -- not at the shul, which of course doesn't allow women to chant Torah or lead services -- she has to move over to the women's side, which they're both upset about. He goes to talk with the rabbi about potential innovations that would allow women more participation in the service, and he and his daughter sit as close to each other as possible on different sides of the mechitza. "Emma lost interest and started spending less and less time in the sanctuary (although she still came to hang out with her friends in the social hall). To be truthful, I also missed sitting near my friends. After a few weeks I moved back to my old seat. Many of the 'innovations' that Rabbi Berman and I talked about were soon forgotten" (168). And that's the last we hear of that! Obviously Goldman is not to be blamed for the gender politics of Jewish Orthodox congregations, but he styles himself as a more open, progressive sort of Orthodox man; he occasionally mentions gender but doesn't seem particularly exercised about it, which does not actually make him a progressive! Indeed, his kaddish practice is only made possible by the fact that his wife takes over all morning responsibilities for their children, which he seems to take as his due. It really irritated me.

However, despite that serious flaw, it was very readable.

[Naama]

This was a very sweet book – more of an essay than a book – something that can be ingested along with a warm cup of cocoa over a quiet evening or two.
It’s a very personal book, so judging it feels like putting a value judgement on its author, and my sense it that both should be treated kindly. The author isn’t perfect, his relationships aren’t perfect, yet there’s a lot of love and earnestness in him and his practice of kaddish and his relationships that made this book very poignant and relatable, even to those who are not in mourning.
The book was written about a time gone by that I’ve lived through, in places that I had been to. So, some of the some of the descriptions in it felt like a nice post card from the past. That may have something to do with my enjoyment of the book, though I think that I mainly enjoyed Goldman’s slow, introspective yet positive storytelling.

[Cindy]

I lost my dad 13 days ago and I’m currently reading 3 books about Kaddish. This one is a quick easy ready. A few things resonated with me. I did think there were a few things that could have been left out so as not to shame others. I also thought there were a few too many random stories that didn’t enhance the book but then again it’s a memoir so who’s to say what’s most important other than the author!

[K L]

Read this for insights into mourning a la Judaism. Suited the goal but the structure of dividing the year up into seasons seemed ho-hum.

[Arthur Goldgaber]

I enjoyed reading this book. I think other books would provide more details about the Kaddish itself and all the rule pertaining to mourning. But I found it an interesting read.

[Mary]

I really enjoyed Finding God at Harvard and the Late Starter’s Orchestra. I may go back and finish this book at a later date.

Finished July 28, 2025. This was the right day for me to read this book. I felt as if Goldman was telling me the story and sharing his grief and his obligations. He found places to say a Kaddish in many different settings—some where he was welcomed more than others. But he kept his obligation with joy and I entered into his doing so.

The book itself is a lovely size and printed well—and somehow that made a difference in the reading of it for me today.

[Tracey]

I checked out this book based on a 50BookChallenge review. As I'm currently working with a hospice client during her last days, I thought a reflection on death and mourning might be helpful.

An Orthodox Jew living in New York City, Ari Goldman lost his father suddenly, the day after his own 50th birthday celebration. As a part of the Jewish mourning ritual, sons of the deceased are expected to say kaddish (a prayer praising God) on a daily basis for 11 months, within a minyan (group of 10 men).

In the process of explaining this obligation and his adherence to it, Goldman talks about his family, his beliefs and his thoughts about death and the hereafter. Ari's father had moved to Israel when he was 70 years old; they had never been very close, as his parents had divorced when Goldman was a child. Ari and his father would often go weeks without talking, although e-mail was becoming their preferred communication.

Goldman had lost his mother four years before, and compares and contrasts the grieving process for each of them; he also looks at how his mourning affects his role as teacher, father and husband. He shares stories of the people with whom he worships and mourns, mostly within his home synagogue, but also in his travels - most notably to Israel, where he took a group of students as part of a religious study class.

I found this recollection of a year in mourning to be moving and uplifting, with exploration of self and relationships giving me some worthwhile food for thought. Recommended to anyone who has lost a loved one and finds comfort in rituals.

[Beckie]

In "Living a Year of Kaddish," Ari Goldman recounts his experience mourning his father. In Orthodox Jewish tradition, a relative, usually a child, of the deceased says a daily prayer for eleven months after a death. The book is broken into sections for each season of Goldman's Kaddish, and works together thoughts on death, fathers, religious observance and divorce. Much of it focuses more on people Goldman prays with (the prayers are said in front of a minyan, the quorum of men required for certain rituals)than on what his praying is about. This often feels unfocused, but the chapter on one Holocaust survivor who says Kaddish for all of its victims is striking.
Goldman used to cover religion for the New York Times, and now teaches a class on religion reporting at Columbia, so I expected the book to focus more on religious themes. It doesn't, much, and it's also not as good as his previous book "The Search for God at Harvard." But it's still worth reading, and I imagine it would be especially meaningful for someone who has gone through this kind of loss.

[Kay]

(I know: I'm a laugh riot! Bring on the death books!)

I enjoyed this book for the information about the history of the Kaddish prayer and surrounding rituals. A reporter and journalism professor, the author conveys information in an interesting, straightforward way, and he has an instinct for the telling historical anecdote.

As memoir, I found it curiously dry and cold. There seems to be much left unsaid--too much--about his relationships with his father and mother. These people are at the heart of the book, but are presented with detachment. The author's voice is often emotionally remote, despite the deep emotions he describes. The tone is clinical, somehow.

[Miriam Kahn]

Goldman's introspective book about a year of mourning and saying kaddish was just what I needed to read this weekend. He wrote about his feelings, coming to grips with mourning, and how a year of ritual and community helped him heal.

At times I cried, other times I laughed, but mostly I related to how Goldman drew on millennia of tradition to help him mourn the loss of his father.

If you need this in your life, I highly recommend a few quiet hours with this book.

May we know no more sorrow.

[Michael Lewyn]

his book describes the author's year of mourning for his father, and focuses on his daily recitation of the Mourner's Kaddish (a Jewish prayer which, even though it never mentions death, has often been treated as a prayer for the dead). The parts of the book I liked best were his description of the more eloquent condolence cards he received, and his description of a letter written to relatives by a dying cousin.

[Rebecca Huston]

This book helped me very much during the year after my mother died. Insightful, without being preachy, this is one that should help anyone in the process of mourning the loss of a loved one, whether or not you're Jewish.

For the longer review, please go here:
http://www.epinions.com/content_13270...

[Isaiah Kallman]

In Judaism, Kaddish is an eleven month period of mourning. I read this book to learn more about the functions of the rituals and prayer. While Goldman does give some basic explanation, most of the text focuses on his deceased father and the different men he met at the synagogue.