King Hussein of Jordan succumbed to cancer last night, not the hero's death he wanted, but he certainly died a hero. Flags fly at half-mast here in Hawaii, the other side of the world from Jordan. The entire world seems to be mourning this day.
I am watching the funeral. It is noon in Amman. Amazingly there has been a fog all morning, as if the Earth herself mourns the passing of one of the world's greatest.
I feel for Queen Noor; bidding her husband goodbye; clasping one of her daughters to her as the women remain behind to mourn privately. The CNN commentator wonders how she must feel, but I wonder about their sons. They must mourn in public, maintaining a strong and solid demeanor for their subjects. Perhaps King Abdullah wants only to go to his room, close the door, and cry.
Jordanians are running along the street with the coffin as if they do not want to say goodbye.
As King Hussein lay dying at the advent of Shabbat, I could not help but think of Josh Gluckstern-Reiss, a friend who was just beginning his own bone marrow transplant, even as the King's was failing.
I began my own interest in Jordan in nineth grade when I did a paper on Jordan. Over the years I came to respect and even love, as one loves a role model, King Hussein and Queen Noor. To lose a hero as one prays to gain back a friend rends one's soul. On Friday night I read Pslam 40 at AJC in solidarity for Josh (friends and relatives were sharing this with communities around the world). For three days I planned what I should say, but when standing before the congregation, I was struck by the emotion of the moment and remained silent, simply reading the words.
The funeral is truly amazing. Forty world leaders, including President Assad of Syria, PM Netanyahu, and Iraqi delegation, Prince Abdullah of Saudi Arabia, Presidents Clinton, Bush, Ford, and Carter, the Sudanese President, UN Secretary General Kofi Amman, and many others. People who have never been in a room together now gether to say goodbye to a king, a colleague, and a friend.
