Wednesday, December 4, 2013

All The Years Combine; They Melt Into A Dream (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Stella Blue")



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

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