Oh, Brother!

By: Larry Gordon

There were times during the process when I just felt like crying. About eight months ago, my brother Binyomin took ill out of nowhere.

He was in Florida at the time, and had a persistent cough that seemed to hang in there. Then he told me he had a feeling of being out of breath when he would walk up a few steps at his home or shul or wherever he happened to be.

I don’t have to go into all the medical details, but as they began to diagnose my brother, it turned out that he had Stage 4 lung cancer. Along with his wife, Sandy, who was stoic throughout the process, I pitched in and spoke with people I knew who could advise us on the best way to proceed.

I can’t level enough praise on Rofeh Cholim Cancer Society and especially Moriah Nagelberg, who was so helpful in guiding a family that had no idea how to go about addressing this matter.

I have come to believe that in a situation like this, you are forced to confront it with a combination of scientific knowledge and faith in Hashem, but not necessarily in that order.

As Jews, we are raised from our earliest years to have unmitigated faith in Hashem’s ways and that everything emanates from Him. And no matter how it looks or feels, it’s ultimately for the good.

But when a loved one is struck down with an illness that faith alone cannot deal with or cure, you are thereby challenged.

I want to tell you so much about my brother Binyomin, who many people knew simply as Ben the same way people know me as Larry. Let me start at the end because that’s what is most fresh in my mind. As I mentioned previously, we went to Eretz Yisrael for Sukkos and a few days afterwards. I knew that Binyomin was ill but still holding his own since he was participating in a clinical trial at NYU Medical Center with oncologists who we all liked and believed in.

At the end, they kind of abandoned him and us because, while they were all great doctors, at the end of the day, my brother was just a medical statistic, and due to technical circumstances about the cancer and the way the lung was reacting to the treatment, they concluded that he was no longer a viable candidate for their medical trial.

So, they were silent, didn’t return calls, and maybe that’s the way they are trained to do things. I’m sure they’re busy with the people who are having greater success in their medical trial.

I’m writing these words during the shivah week, and because we could not get another flight, we had to wait until last Thursday morning at 10:30 a.m. for our 12-hour return flight to New York. The fact is that when I was told the night before that he was niftar and they needed to schedule the levayah, I told my nephew that they should not wait for us. The kevurah has to take place without delay, certainly not for someone else’s personal convenience since that is what is best for the neshamah as it so gloriously enters its next stage of existence in Hashem’s great world.

I don’t know how Binyomin was feeling about his situation. He was 79 years old, and in my estimation, lived a good and happy life, but I feel he could have lived many more happy years in this spectacular world that G-d created for Am Yisrael.

Binyomin and Sandy have a beautiful family and over the last few months, welcomed their first great-grandchildren. Who can ask for anything more but to be alive and healthy? A few months ago, Binyomin sent a text message to our brother Yossy saying that he was not afraid of death, but was concerned about the matter of dying. He referenced our father, who passed away almost 37 years ago, remarking that after all these years, “We still talk about daddy. I hate what that does to families. Look, he’s been gone so long and he’s still so much a part of our lives.”

I’ve been reading and re-reading these words for a few days now and I have the advantage of not needing to explain how I feel about this matter to him. All I have to do is think about it, and on his new level of existence, Binyomin knows what I’m thinking and in what context.

I’m thinking that it’s not just good but great that we talk about our dad all the time. As you may know, I write about him now and then, and when we get together, inevitably, the conversation gravitates to something he or my mom may have said about one situation or another.

In fact, I was thinking as I was communing with my brother’s soul the other day about the reference at the end of Sefer Devarim to Hashem’s hiddenness. It says, “The hidden things are the concern of Hashem your G-d. Regarding the revealed things, it is ours and our children’s responsibility forever to observe the words of this Torah.” (Devarim 29:28)

This means that the things that are hidden are the responsibility of Hashem, and we are responsible for the things that are revealed. And the fact that Hashem is hidden from will itself be hidden from us. I saw a commentary on this that said that “Hashem’s revelation to us is in His concealment.” As I understand it, this means that the fact He is concealed from us is precisely the way He reveals Himself to us.

So, I was thinking about Binyomin in this context and I never thought I would have to write about him like this, but I just wanted him to not be concerned about his family or our greater family and even if we can’t see him, the very fact that he is concealed from us is how he is being revealed to us. Like Hashem, my brother’s revelation is in his current concealment.

So, of course we are going to talk about him and to him, and he did not need to be concerned about what that does to our family. It’s what is good and healthy for a family. And I think that the fact he is concealed from us is what is so revealing about him and in his new celestial existence, I’m sure he understands that.

And that is what you get while sitting shivah and the extended mourning period, including the way our parents are still in our lives though my dad has been concealed from us for 37 years, but I could never adequately explain how he is so much a part of us and we to him even after all these years.

So, that was one of the things on Binyamin’s mind as he so courageously dealt with this turning point that we all have to face one day. Sure, he was still very youthful and vital, but he could have had so much more to live for on Hashem’s good Earth.

One of the things shivah offers you is the opportunity to become familiar with a family that grew and evolved while you were distracted, looking the other way, and busy with your own family.

In one way, time seems to come to a stop during a shivah. As a matter of fact, and this is just a casual observation, on a Saturday night or Sunday like we had last weekend, if you glanced at your watch or the time on your cell phone, there were moments when you had to take a second look because it felt as if time stood still.

So, I sat there with my brother Yossy on my left and my sister Peshe on my right and we mumbled to each other throughout the evening and the next day about who was there and how we knew them.

At the same time, we became better acquainted with Ben’s family. That is, his three great daughters of whom I can vividly recall the day they were born and how they made my parents so happy. They are grown now and one is a grandmother, and all their husbands are superstars as are their children, some of whom are married, and others who are teens and young kids.

But we did not really know them, and in some instances, could have passed them on the street and not known who they were. But now we all know and will never forget. So, Binyamin, if you were concerned about the impact that losing you would have on your family, please know that the effect has been immediate and positive. It’s because of you that we have pulled together as a family to remember you and grieve for you, and I hope you know from your perch that things will never be the same.

You were the senior (okay, the eldest) grandchild of families that escaped European oppression targeting Jews. And while it seems that some things never change, slowly and surely, they do. Hopefully life will move forward and not backward. Your birth back in 1946 gave your parents and (fortunately for us) grandparents hope for the future. You blazed a beautiful trail and this week I personally witnessed how your children and grandchildren are fortifying and strengthening that trail you blazed.

On one hand, if you were aware of your condition, it’s good now that at least that portion of your experience is now in the past. Your fear and thoughts about the impact of your departure on your family is now something you can deal with peacefully and comfortably. There were four generations of your family in your home and they were all there out of great love for you.

Sure, we all miss you. It’s true that now that you are no longer here, I miss you more each day, though oddly, weeks could pass when we didn’t have the time to speak. Now, all I have to do is think about you and we’re locked in. Sure, I know your number by heart, but for now anyway, I don’t need it. 

Read more of Larry Gordon’s articles at 5TJT.com. Follow 5 Towns Jewish Times on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter for updates and live videos. Comments, questions, and suggestions are welcome at 5TJT.com and on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.