“RABBI’S MUSINGS (&
AMUSINGS)”
Erev Shabbos Kodesh
Parshas Vayikra
4 Nissan 5777/ March 31,
2017
Lz”n Avrohom Yosef ben
Naftali Hertz a”h
Recently, I saw an article about the American classic
song "Old Man River", from the 1927 musical and 1936 film classic
"Show Boat". The song was composed by Jerome Kern, a secular Jew with
hardly any connection with his faith.
The song contrasts the struggles and hardships of
enslaved African-Americans with the endless, seemingly apathetic, flowing,
Mississippi River.
"Ol' man river... he must know something cause he
just keeps rolling... rolling along... I gets weary, sick of trying, I'm tired
of living, fearing of dying, but ol' man river, he keeps rolling along."
Normally, an article about such a song would not have
caught my eye. But that particular song evokes very strong emotions within me.
My father's father, my beloved Sabbah, was full of
vitality and life. He was the consummate gentleman, with a good word and a
smile for everyone.
We grew up living just a few blocks away from
Sabbah and Savta on the Lower East Side, and davened together every Shabbos.
When we moved to Monsey, every few weeks on Sunday afternoons, we would return
to visit.
I was eleven and a half years old when Sabbah was
diagnosed with the melanoma that would consume his vitality, and eventually his
life. The last time I saw him in his apartment, he was very weak from
treatments, and each family member could only go into the room one at a time.
As we waited to go into his room, the television was
on in the living room, and the movie Showboat was on.
Just before I went in to Sabbah, I saw and heard the
song "Old Man River". Despite the fact that I only heard the song
that once, I never forgot it.
Shortly after the song ended, it was my turn to go
into Sabbah's room.
In the room was only my father myself, and Sabbah. But lying in the bed, looking at me with his shining eyes, wasn't the Sabbah I knew and adored. Aside from times past when I snuggled next to him in bed, I had never even seen him lying down. Now he appeared so weak and frail. We spoke for a few minutes as I tried unsuccessfully to squelch my tears.
In the room was only my father myself, and Sabbah. But lying in the bed, looking at me with his shining eyes, wasn't the Sabbah I knew and adored. Aside from times past when I snuggled next to him in bed, I had never even seen him lying down. Now he appeared so weak and frail. We spoke for a few minutes as I tried unsuccessfully to squelch my tears.
I only saw Sabbah one more time, in the hospital.
On the night of March 29, 1992, my twelfth birthday,
my mother was holding a birthday cake for me, when she received the painful
call from my father that Sabbah had passed away. It was the bitterest birthday
cake I ever had.
Old Man River always symbolizes to me the river of
life, which flows and rages ceaselessly. We do not control its direction, but
we do have to learn how to navigate its current and flow.
Every one of us finds ourselves in different parts of
the river. Our predecessors have charted the course for us and have brought us
downstream as far as they could go. Then they allegorically handed over the
sails to us, so that we can continue to steer ourselves further downstream, and
ensure that we maintain course and not be swayed by the tempests of life.
That Old Man River has seen many things and can tell
many stories. The only constant is the presence of our weather-beaten ship,
which somehow continues to flow uninhibited along its epic course.
How often do we remind ourselves of the beginning of
our journey, performing numerous mitzvos as a “Zecher l'yetzias Mitzrayim”.
Doing so reminds us of our mission to maintain our responsibility to keep
flowing until the ship reaches port.
This Friday, 4 Nissan, marks Sabbah's yahrtzeit. His
inspiration and example continues to inspire our family to traverse that Old
Man River, and to give our children and grandchildren, the timeless gift that
our parents and grandparents gave us.
As we sit down to our Seder each year, we connect
ourselves with generations past and future, who ensured, and will ensure, our
continuous course along that Old Man River.
Shabbat Shalom & Good Shabbos,
R’ Dani and Chani Staum