Wincingly, I hadn't been there in years.
But I'd been really wanting to go. And every time I saw the special prayer in my siddur meant to be said at Kever Rachel, I felt a pang of longing and guilt.
So it was wonderful to finally be there.
Off to the side of the benches filled with davening ladies sat a wizened elderly lady in a wheelchair who quietly requested tzedakah.
I had no cash on me, so I apologized and she responded with a smile and blessing for "every kind of salvation."
I noticed other women there who greeted her warmly and quietly as if they knew her, so I figured both she and them were regulars at Kever Rachel.
(Later, I went out and got a coin from our son, then went back to give it to her.)
Another older woman, exuding positive energy and assertiveness, breezed through the women's section to find volunteers for reading a hefty portion of sefer of Tehillim. (It can be split 5 ways or 7 ways, and by doing that, the entire book can be finished more easily than if one person recites it alone. Whether alone or in a group, each completion is counted as a huge contribution to the scale of merits for Am Yisrael.)
Realizing I wouldn't manage to complete the only section left (with the more complicated chapters), I reluctantly turned her down when she asked me.
It was both impressive and a relief that she showed understanding of my inability to participate. (Some act rattled or try to pressure you when you turn them down. They mean well; their push derives from the importance of Tehillim, but it can feel bad when it happens.)
When it came time to go, I first ended up in an adjoining room with a row of nicely enameled netilat yadayim sinks and a corner for coffee and tea. A group of frum women stood around the water machine in animated conversation.
Many of these women were older and likely retired.
Surreptitiously observing them, I realized that they spent large chunks of their days at Kever Rachel.
With clean and conveniently accessible restrooms, plus a corner for making hot or cold drinks (in addition to the all-important women's section for davening) a lady could easily spend her days at Kever Rachel, davening and taking breaks as necessary. (And I guess bring her own sandwich, fruit, or nuts too.)
Due to the culture and the spacious room away from the davening (so as not to bother the daveners), they could also enjoy some social stimulation with like-minded women (i.e., those who also choose to spend their free time at Kever Rachel).
I saw that in addition to the energetic outgoing women who sporadically breezed through the daveners in their quest for Tehillim volunteers, quiet and demure women also formed part this Kever Rachel group.
Regardless of what type from various groups of the frum world and their varying individual personalities — they found their role at Kever Rachel and acceptance among each other.
What a beautiful way to spend one's retirement!
Standing near them, I felt a powerful welling-up of "Ein k'Amcha Yisrael!"
So much of the media presents us with golden-years "success" stories, like a ninety-year-old woman who's the star of a bowling league, or the elderly man who parachutes, and so on.
But who cares?
Why is such unimportant nonsense seen as such praiseworthy accomplishments?
I just felt like, Here is an option — something to look forward to when I get older and the house empties out. This is something I could do too, whether all day every day, or just one morning a week. It's not demanding at all and it's also totally flexible.
It made me feel rich with possibilities, rather than viewing that time of life as limiting or less meaningful.
Yes, their lives slowed down without the juggling of work and family.
But its slowed-down state still remains vitally meaningful and fulfilling.
Rather than relating their retirement as entry into life's final chapter (even when it's a blessed long one), their activities at Kever Rachel made this time of life a new chapter, rather than the beginning of a final one.
And I felt so impressed by my fellow Jewish women, who feel moved to spend their free time in a holy place doing holy work (along with breaks for refreshments and kosher shmoozing).
(And of course, there are many meaningful possibilities for women to spend time in their golden age. Spending time at Kever Rachel is only one of many possibilities. It simply struck me because it's very meaningful without the usual obligations of time or energy.)
In contrast to those Top 10 lists (which make me feel inadequate or disgruntled by their off-target emphasis on material accomplishments) of female frum career women sporting "woo-woo!" glamour sheitels, these Kever Rachel women made me feel proud to be a frum Jewish woman.
And rather than feeling inadequate, I felt like this was something I could also aspire to one day.