By Susan Goldberg Schwartz

Fifty-six years ago, I stood before the Torah as a Bat Mitzvah, reading from Acharei Mot. At the time, the portion’s laws and rituals—especially those surrounding Yom Kippur and the scapegoat—felt distant and abstract. Even the title, Acharei Mot, “after the death,” hinted at loss, but I couldn’t yet grasp its depth. In fact, my Bat Mitzvah speech focused on an entirely different topic: famous Jewish women throughout history, including Golda Meir and Emma Goldman!

Now, decades later, those words—Acharei Mot—resonate differently. My father, who died before my daughter turned one, would have celebrated his 97th birthday this week. Mother’s Day weekend, always bittersweet, marks the anniversary of my mother’s death 17 years ago. The Torah’s words are no longer just ancient instruction—they echo with personal meaning. After death – of loved ones, of parents – how do we go on? How do we live in the presence of absence? These questions lie at the heart of memory and legacy.

This Shabbat, we are doubly blessed as we read from two parashot. The Torah moves from Acharei Mot to Kedoshim— “You shall be holy.” This isn’t a call to ascend to the heavens, but to ‘be like God’, to live ethically and with purpose: honor your parents, care for the stranger, be honest in business, leave gleanings for the poor. Holiness is grounded in whom we remember and how we choose to live.

Today, I ask myself: How do I honor my parents now that they are no longer here? I honor and remember them by telling their stories, sharing the ideals they lived, and in the principles I strive to pass on to my children and grandchildren. Both my parents valued education, the Jewish community, and family. They embodied the traits of generosity, lovingkindness, trust, and honor. (Today, I would say that they were practitioners of Mussar!)  Throughout my career as a Jewish community educator, I often drew on the experiences of my childhood and the leadership roles my parents held. Their legacy has shaped not only who I am but how I try to live.

In rereading my Bat Mitzvah portion through the lens of time, I see now that Acharei Mot is not just about ritual or loss. It is a call to remember—and to honor memory with action. To transform grief into purpose, and loss into holiness. The way we live becomes our legacy—our own kedusha—a sacred echo that continues long after we are gone.

I hope that one day, when my grandchildren read Acharei Mot, they will feel that same echo.

Written in loving memory of my parents, Larry and Judy Goldberg, z”l.

Susan Goldberg Schwartz is a Jewish educator, cantorial soloist, Mussar facilitator, and proud Gramma of Liora and Zev.