My Bubby
Last week I walked into a wedding and was immediately greeted with excitement by some fellow Detroiters.
“We saw the video of your grandmother. It is going viral. It is amazing.”
I don’t know if it is going viral or not. But yes, it is amazing.
There you are being greeted in Bun Gurion airport by a slew of grandchildren and great-grandchildren, ka”h. They are dancing in front of you as they welcome your arrival into their country and their home. Your new home. And there you are sitting in a wheelchair dancing with your hands and tickling a great-granddaughter.
It is beautiful. It is special. It is where you belong. I know that.
I Wish You Were Here
But Bubby, really I wanted to say to that video and to Tante Gitty (your daughter) and to her children, “Guess what, cousins of mine? You stole my Bubby from me. She still needs to be here in America. With me. Here is where she belongs.”
I am not joking when I say that I was sitting in a doctor’s office waiting room bawling when I saw that video. Because I selfishly want you here, with me. I am not joking either when I say that as I write this, my eyes are filling with tears.
Because in Detroit on Dartmouth Street there stands a non-descript little house. It fits in very well with the many other houses on that block. Yet I am sure we all agree that this house is the best house on that street – nope, in the neighborhood.
As I sit here in my own home, I imagine myself turning the doorknob and entering your house. I am greeted by Bubby smells: fried onions, Bubby potatoes and Bubby soup. As I breathe in the smells, I am breathing in your love for your family.
I walk into the living room with plush orange carpet. Maybe not the nicest color out there. But it is inviting and warm. Just like you.
And now my imagination is stuck. Do I want to sit on your dining-room chair that has hosted us for countless Shabbos meals? Or perhaps I want to go into your kitchen with those hues of blue that make the room so inviting. I picture you cutting up salad to serve in the huge salad bowl to the crowds you were constantly hosting. Oh, and of course, the Bubby pickles would come out.
And those bedrooms. There was something magical about them. Something that grabbed me but I also knew was kind of off-limits.
The Rebellion
But this summer when I came to visit you, I rebelled. I hope you don’t mind. I went through all those forbidden drawers and closets. I even went downstairs and went through some of those boxes in the back room. I was traveling back to a time I thought would never end.
This summer, in those twenty-four hours that I was at your house, I knew that it was ending. As we sat in that warm homey kitchen talking and laughing, I knew they were trying to spirit you off to Eretz Yisrael. I knew I needed to talk to you about everything and anything. I needed to soak you all in.
Bubby, do you remember that at one point I turned to you and said, “Please don’t ever die!” And you looked at me with eyes that understood. You know I lost so much already. But you answered me, “Miriam, we all die. And I am close to 100.”
I know. But Bubby, please, I hope until 120 at least, iy”H.
I knew that I must write something to get all my heavy feelings out.
And that was about you. Not that you make my heart heavy And really, I am happy for you that you were “kidnapped” and taken to Eretz Yisrael to be close to your family there. But I miss you. I want you closer to me.
The Mishnah Describes You
My Bubby’s departure was very much on my mind when I saw mishnah yud beis in perek gimmel of Pirkei Avos:
How can a person’s deeds outweigh his wisdom (meaning Torah knowledge?) After all, a person can’t perform a mitzvah if he doesn’t learn Torah to know about it. Rabbeinu Yonah explains that this refers to having the proper attitude toward Torah learning: everything we learn we must immediately put into practice.
And that describes my Bubby. Although she was born and raised in America, she was raised with a strong passion for Yiddishkeit. Whenever she learns something new, she asks no questions except: “How do we do this the right way? Why did you never tell me about this?” And then she declares, “From now on, this is how I will do it.”
A person whose wisdom is greater than his deeds will only be able to be so careful with mitzvos that he understands. But when someone keeps all mitzvos, including the chukim, his deeds are said to be greater than his wisdom. After all, he is doing things that transcend his understanding. He is simply doing mitzvos because Hashem said so, and that is enough.
And that is my Bubby. This is how we do it because Hashem said.
No one can describe my Bubby as a serious personality. When Bubby is around we laugh. We laugh at her acting and mimicking abilities. We laugh at her exaggerated jokes, and we laugh when she dances in the middle of the street with her seventy-year-old (ka”h) son.
And yet, I picture her face turning serious when it comes to avodas Hashem. American-born, public-school-educated Bubby personifies this mishnah.
I know that I can use Zoom and Whatsapp and just the plain old telephone to keep in touch with Bubby. But none of those are the same as seeing her in real life. Because seeing Bubby in action is a lesson in living. I will miss laughing with her in her kitchen and internalizing those important lifelong lessons.
Bubby, I guess in a new country with a whole gang of kidnappers, you will have the chance to continue to learn new things, to continue to love to do mitzvos. I suppose it is time to share you with your many generations of progeny who haven’t yet had a chance get to know you and learn from you the way I did.
Not that I have a choice. I would selfishly keep you here if I could. But I am sure that you are soaking up so much love over there. And I am happy for all my cousins who now have the most amazing opportunity of their lives.
This article originally appeared in Links magazine and appears here with permission.
Chevrah Lomdei Mishnah / The Society for Mishnah Study is a 501(c)3 non-profit organization dedicated to providing loved ones eternal merit through Torah Study and Prayer.
