They are well known figures at the airports, which is
almost their second home, as they `commute' cross-continent
to their workplaces, to remain for a few days, weeks or even
months. But the home base is always Eretz Yisroel. They
wouldn't trade that for anything . . .
R' Shmuel's job entails his being on duty in a European
country two days every week, forcing him to shuttle back and
forth accordingly.
How do you maintain contact? Upon your return, do you feel
out of touch with whatever happened at home, with the family,
in the interim?
In the era of modern communication, every Jewish community is
connected to one another and to what is going on in the
Jewish world. Sometimes, in Europe, I can be updated to what
is going on in Eretz Yisroel much quicker than if I were
home.
I have a steady telephone rendezvous with the family once or
twice a day, not during work hours, of course. If any problem
arises, I try to solve it by `remote control' through the
phone. As for the kehillah, I try to give them the
feeling that even when I am back home in Eretz Yisroel, I am
still with them, since I know how much they need me and rely
on me.
I make my departure even when I am uncertain that I will be
able to get away and return at my usual appointed time, not
knowing what may develop. For example: If a strike is
imminent, I take my chances and go, not knowing when and how
I will return. This is my job, my mission, and I know that I
am needed. How I arrive — that I leave up to Hashem.
And thank G-d, until now, I have never encountered a glitch
except for the bombing of the Twin Towers.
It will be remembered that all flights were stopped at that
time. It was right before Rosh Hashonah and in my
kehillah, they arranged a place for me for Yom Tov. My
family and I began to make peace with the idea of our
separation but in the end, I returned two days after my usual
time with an unscheduled flight. I traveled to another
European country and there, I was able to board a plane going
to Eretz Yisroel. Being a frequent traveler, I was given
preferance and this special flight was made possible for me.
Thus, I was able to spend the Yom Tov with my family, after
all.
What is particularly difficult? How does you wife handle
this situation?
She replies:
"Difficult" — she sums up succinctly. "But I try to
make the best of it. We maintain a daily telephone contact. I
daven more fervently when my husband is far away . .
."
How is the difficulty mainly manifested?
I must make decisions by myself and learn to manage by
myself. The older boys wait for my husband to come back and
review their studies with them. Then there are the PTA
meetings for the boys that almost invariably fall out when he
is absent. And the little ones miss greeting him and sharing
their daily experiences with him.
Can you say that you become accustomed to the
schedule?
Somewhat. I learn to put off the important things for when he
is home, but this is not easy since new problems and
situations crop up all the time whose decisions require his
involvement. As a working woman, I truly need a helping hand
every day. When everything is going smoothly and no problems
crop up, the difficulty seems to shrink. It looms much bigger
again when a child become sick or something happens. Then I
especially feel his absence. When a week passes uneventfully,
without any glitches, we heave a sigh and say, "Boruch
Hashem! It shouldn't be worse . . . "
Do the children take an interest in your husband's work in
some faraway place?
My husband shares his experiences with them at the Shabbos
table and they relive it with him. The older ones insist on
knowing every minute detail, including the flight and the
scenery. Even though this has been going on for several
years, each week has its story, its experiences, its
novelties. That's the up side, the pleasant and interesting
side.
The difficult side is the anxieties before the flights. In
the winter, I am afraid of sudden snowstorms preventing
takeoff, or making delays. I also worry about security and
unexpected situations. The tension is renewed each week. I
thank Hashem each time I see him returning home safely.
Difficult, but also a mitzvah
Originally, we held a family caucus in which it was decided
that it was possible and that we agreed to the offer. We
discussed it with the children and explained to them that
Abba would be going on a shlichus (mission) abroad and
that we had the privilege of being his partners.
It would be difficult, we told them, because Abba would not
always be accessble, but on the other hand, we would be
associates in the mitzvah. The older ones understood
and accepted the decision with due appreciation. The little
ones didn't exactly understand what it entailed. Their focus
was on the gifts and surprises they would receive.
R' Yeshaya's wife, experiencing a similar situation, presents
the family's part in the decision making. She felt that if
she presented the facts to the children in a happy,
optimistic manner, as an interesting challenge of value, that
is how the children would see it, too. "But when we project
the difficulty in the matter, if we are tense and anxious
about how we will cope, the children will see it in the same
negative light."
When do you most feel his absence?
On Shabbos, of course. The daily high pressure routine makes
one forget the difficulties, but Shabbos intensifies the
feeling of loneliness and longing. The children feel more at
loose ends, that the rein of discipline has slackened. Each
one recites his dvar Torah quickly, out of obligation,
whereas when he is present, the Shabbos table is much richer,
full of meening and content. At least for Yom Tov, he is
never away, except for Chanukah, and then, too, it is felt
very palpably. The candlelighting has something missing to
it; it is cheerless. When I felt it, I was suddenly moved to
pray to Hashem not to remove other fathers and husbands from
any family!
What do the children say about their father's
absence?
I discussed the problem and explored it with the older
children, and the question always arises if it is all worth
it, if it is feasible for him to continue on this way, doing
his important work, or to stop. The talks are very open but
the younger children find it much more difficult to express
their feelings. One young child, however, formulated his
ambivalent feelings by stating, "I don't like it that Abba
goes away, but I know I also share a little of his
mitzvah." He once even came out bluntly and said that
he hates it that Abba is so far away; he wants him to come
and learn here, close to him.
I hear undertones and overtones of anger and resentment,
especially from the little ones. They feel closer to him.
They miss accompanying him to and from shul and
studying with their Abba. When the older boys are away in
yeshiva for Shabbos, I ask friends of theirs who have come
home for Shabbos to come and take the boys to shul,
and even to coach them along and make sure they daven
properly. That is one of the solutions I have devised, and I
encourage it by giving prizes to the ones in charge.
"When I am there, my heart is here"
In a talk with R' Yeshaya, he says: "I call my family three
times a day. I even call my sons in yeshiva."
Don't these frequent calls interfere with your
work?
Even when I am on a mitzvah-mission, I am not
absolved, nor do I shirk my main mitzvah of educating
my children. On the contrary: When I am far away, it is all
the more important that they toe the line. And even though it
does disturb me, one does what one is obligated to do and I
experience siyata d'Shmaya. Someone who is concerned
with the education of others, merits Divine assistance with
the education of his own children and I admit that I see it
tangibly in a most wonderful way.
I work together with my wife; I make my effort in maintaining
contact, in advising, listening, encouraging and doing
whatever is possible through the phone. When I return home, I
try to be there 100% and to give my family my full attention
to try to fill the gap.
As for me, when I am abroad, I feel as if I am with them,
here. Sometimes when a person is far away, he can feel even
closer and more attached; he thinks more about his family and
is more concerned about them. The younger children love to
hear about my travels and experiences. They always ask when
they will be allowed to accompany me. It is my wife,
actually, who sometimes does this. If I am unable to come
home for Shabbos and she manages to set up the children by a
family, she comes to join me. She enjoys it, and the
community where I work is happy to have me with them. She
also spends a week vacation there occasionally when she can
arrange it. I think it is important that she get the feel of
the place where I spend so much of my time and energy and not
feel it so removed from her.
[final part next week]
