We spent the American Thanksgiving with our family
in Rochester. Our children spent time with their grandparents and their 97 year
old grandfather. Because of his severe
dementia, when we saw him, he asked us to introduce ourselves when we greeted
him. I sat next to him during
thanksgiving dinner. I cut his turkey for him. I fed him sweet potatoes, I fed
him stuffing. Besides the fact that suffers from dementia, at 97, and confined
to a wheelchair, he looks small, he looks frail, and he looks old. He seems almost
unrecognizable compared to the recent images of my grandfather, even as recent
as 4 years ago. For all of my life, my grandfather has always had an incredibly
young spirit. Yes, he was part of the “Greatest
Generation”: born during WW I, experience the Great Depression, and WWII.
However as a salesman of athletic wear to numerous university athletic
departments; he spent an inordinate amount of time on university campuses. He
frequently sat with college students, spoke with them, asked them school and
would frequently check their collar labels in order to make sure that it was
his brand. When I traveled with him, I would
find this act utterly embarrassing; I intuitively understood that this
environment, engaging university students in conversation, checking their
sweatshirts to make sure that they wore his brand, kept my grandfather
spiritually young. Ironically, it was about 4 years ago when he stopped
checking the labels of my sweatshirt labels and the sweatshirt labels of his
great grandchildren.
In this week’s Parsha, Vayigash, Yosef reveals
himself to his brothers. He urges his brother Yehudah to bring his father down
to Egypt in order to reunite father and son as well as save him from the
famine. Yosef arranges for his brothers and all their households to live in
Goshen, thereby preserving their livelihood as shepherds. Yosef then brings his
130 year-old father to meet Pharaoh. After a very revealing exchange, Yaakov
blesses Pharaoh. The Parsha concludes with all Yaakov’s sons, and their
households and cattle settling down again. However instead of Canaan they
settle down in Goshen, and they thrive.
While last week’s Parsha embodied the theme of
appearances, this week’s Parsha is all about the effect of emotions upon
appearances. Specifically, we read that Yosef could no longer contain his
anguish and his excitement at the possibility of seeing his father. Later
towards the end of the Parsha, Pharaoh looks upon this 130 year old man and
asks, “How old are you”? We see what life has done to Yaakov and his response. “Uma’at Shanah V’Raim hayu y’mei Shnei
Chayai, V’lo Hisigu et Y’mei Shnei Chayai Avotai Bimei M’gureihem” Few and bad have been the day of the years
of my life, and they have not reached the years of the life of my forefathers
in the days of their wanderings.
Yaakov has had his share of tzuris. He spent over twenty years working
for his evil uncle Lavan, and fearing his brother Esav. His daughter was raped.
Then for the last twenty- two years he has been living with the anguish that
his beloved son Yosef had been dead. Yaakov has been through life, and these
tragedies aged him. Yaakov tells Pharaoh that he is not as old as his father or
grandfather. He just looks old. So much so, that when Pharaoh looked upon
Yaakov, he was amazed to see such an ancient looking man.
Our experiences affect us. We know that tragedies
age us, and longevity takes a toll upon our bodies, our minds and sometimes our
spirit. While Yaakov’s answer indicates that he had been through a lot, his
answer is that of a Tzaddik. Not only does Yaakov answer, indicating that his
mind is still sound, but his answer gives us insight into his soul. No matter
how sad the situation, or tragic the experience, Yaakov possessed within him
the element of a fighter. His name is Yisroel, and he is called by this name
several times during the Parsha. He could accept a situation and then handle
whatever came his way. His descendant, my grandfather, is no different. His
experience aged him, but it did not kill him. Instead other experiences kept
him young both mentally and spiritually. He possessed within him the spirit of
Yisroel. He, too, wrestled and survived. The sparks of my grandfather’s soul are less
evident and they come less frequently. However, every once in a while, we see a
spark and we are thankful for it. Every once in a while we see a glimmer of the
man my grandfather used to be. When we see that glimmer, we smile and indeed,
we are thankful as we were on Thanksgiving. The good days of his life are much
less frequent now. They are not days, but rather a seconds. However even in those
couple of seconds, I can see my grandfather’s spirit still fighting to emerge
from the darkness of his dementia.
Peace,
Rav Yitz
No comments:
Post a Comment