Part One
The touching stories of three women who decided to welcome
their elderly parents into their own homes and to offer them
maximal care.
All three women describe the special Siyata d'Shmaya
they merited during those periods and the blessings they and
their families enjoyed as a result of their devotion.
Nira's Story
My father was a remarkable man whose cheerfulness was
infectious. Generous and affable, he would constantly search
for ways to help others.
When my children were small, he repeatedly asked me, "Nu,
Nira, what can I do for you?" Jokingly, I would reply that he
could wash dishes or bake a cake.
"Well, Ima never let me patchke around in the kitchen
so I can't do that," he would invariably respond. "But I'm a
good shlepper. I'll bring the vegetable order and the
chickens upstairs, Okay?"
I remember how happy he was when my first child, a girl, was
born. He just couldn't stop raving about his "little
princess." He was equally as excited over every other
birth.
When my children grew older, he would dance and sing with
them, and create such a lively and pleasant atmosphere that
visiting Zaidy was the biggest treat I could offer them. He
also taught them alef-beis and quizzed them on the
parsha every week.
When he retired, he joined R' Simcha Kessler's kollel
for baalei batim. One time, my father fainted in the
middle of the shiur. The moment he regained his
consciousness, he said, "I'm sorry for having disturbed the
shiur. Will you forgive me?" That was my Abba!
Through his personal example, he demonstrated how to cope
with crises without losing his equanimity or good spirits.
Due to his glowing personality, it was difficult to believe
that he had lost parents, brothers, a wife and three children
during the Holocaust.
Ima, his second wife, was unlike him. She was very frail and
weakly, and it was evident that she was a Holocaust survivor.
Nonetheless, she was a devoted mother to her two children --
my brother and me.
Ima functioned well until my brother passed away under tragic
and sudden circumstances. At that time, she was seventy-two,
and the loss of her beloved son severely affected her health.
Until then, my parents had been independent, but when my
mother fell ill, their situation underwent a drastic
upheaval.
As their only living child, I resolved to attend to all of
their needs. At first, the care centered around Ima. Abba
managed to weather the emotional crises and continued to
study in the kollel. However, from a physical
standpoint, he neglected himself and often forgot to eat.
Quite soon, I began to cook his meals while taking care of
Ima at the same time.
Despite his mental stamina, Abba fell into a mild depression
when he saw that Ima's health kept on deteriorating, and in
time, his own health was also adversely affected.
By then, neither my father nor my mother functioned up to
par, and my husband and I decided to invite them to live with
us. They came for Pesach and we suggested that they remain
with us. But Abba refused.
Although I had a small child at home and also worked, I still
visited my parents every day. On the days that Ima underwent
dialysis, an all-day procedure, I remained with Abba and made
certain that he ate breakfast and lunch. On the evenings of
such days, my married daughter would take over and make Abba
supper.
Abba's situation slowly worsened. He began to lose his memory
and broke a leg. Now both my parents needed constant care. As
a result, Ima came to live with us, while we placed Abba in a
convalescent home for the meanwhile.
His rosh kollel, Rav Kessler, visited him every week
at the convalescent home and bolstered his spirits. During
that period, I was thoroughly worn out, but did my best to
take care of both my parents.
A Special Z'chus
A year later, my mother passed away. At the end of the
shiva, we decided that my father would fare best in
his warm family environment. As soon as he recovered, we
brought him home.
Abba was overjoyed to be back with us, and began to function
independently again. Two years later, though, he became
dependent again. We continued to care for him, but it became
more difficult as time went by.
One day, he fell and broke his pelvis. He underwent an
operation, but had to remain in a wheelchair. Since we lived
on the fourth floor, it was nearly impossible to take him to
the physiotherapist or to treatments in the hospital.
Having no choice, we searched for an old age home which could
provide him with the treatment he required. Abba remained
there until his passing. Looking back at that period, I feel
that the emotional difficulties were more taxing than the
physical ones. It was so sad to see Abba, the family's head
and pride, in such a helpless and dependent situation.
In retrospect, I see that caring for him contributed greatly
to our children's chinuch. They participated in live
lessons in kibbud ov v'aim and I hope, they
internalized the messages. When my father was living with us,
the children shared the privilege of caring for him with us.
Some of them accompanied him to his golden-agers' clubs.
Others took walks with him, read to him and chatted with him.
My oldest daughter was particularly devoted to him and felt
that she was a full partner to all of the chessed in
the house.
Actually, my husband was the one who had originally suggested
that Abba move in with us. He was the one who helped him wash
and took him to shul. He was the childen's best teacher,
their role model.
During those years, we merited special Siyata d'Shmaya
in all of our endeavors. Whenever I had to make a crucial
decision regarding my parents' care, I felt that I wasn't
alone, and that I was being guided from Above. When financial
pressures seemed crushing, solutions would crop up "out of
the blue" at the precise moment we needed them. It was
obvious that Hashem was endowing me with special strength to
cope with the challenge. I also experienced much personal
growth at that time, improving my own character traits,
especially that of patience.
It was a difficult, yet very satisfying period for me. I
raised my own family, married off children, took care of my
elderly parents, worked and kept my extended family together
as well.
While trying to do the maximum for my parents, I learned that
as far as parents are concerned, there is no maximum. There
is no end to the gratitude we owe them.
My parents were so good to me that I hope that I was able to
return at least a bit of what I owed them.
To be continued...
[Ed. Note: The above true story is a one-person case
presented as an example of the resources of strength one
finds when circumstances present an opportunity of taking in
an elderly parent. Not always is it best for all sides, as we
see clearly in the above story. But when it is feasible, much
blessing is reaped. To be sure, each case should be judged
separately, and before making such a crucial decision, Daas
Torah should be consulted.
And yet, it should always be remembered: Siyata
d'Shmaya is an element that goes far beyond 1 +1 = 2!]
