In 1980 my father and mother were traveling around the world as part of Dad’s second sabbatical. I had previously mentioned in this blog my teenage experience of journal writing in London which occurred during his first sabbatical eight years earlier. This second time, he was exploring intentional inter-generational communities focused on wellness – a professional social work interest and a personal avocation.
They went to Japan, China and then India, where he took ill. Dad had a heart condition (mitral valve prolapse – yes the same condition that I had successful surgery to repair last year), that was not at the time curable per se). He spent time in an ashram and began to feel better. Then they went on to Israel to investigate a particular health-centered moshava (colony). While in Israel, they visited the Museum of the Jewish Diaspora – called Beit Hatfutsot – in Tel Aviv. It was there that Dad had complete heart failure and died on the museum floor.
Only the week before in Dad’s travel journal did he – a non-observant Jew – write “I feel the Shema closer to me than it has ever been.”
The Shema is the central prayer of Judaism which asserts the universal unity of G-d :
Hear O Israel, the Lord our G-d the Lord is One. שְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל יְהוָה אֱלֹהֵינוּ יְהוָה אֶחָֽד
It is traditional for Jews to say the Shema as their last words.
On Sunday I was with my cousin Sybil in Tel Aviv. But I walked alone to Beit Hatfutsot to pay homage to my father. The museum was under major renovation with new exhibits planned for completion later this year. As I got to the front desk I asked the clerk the cost of entry. He mentioned that most of the exhibits are not available and I said I knew that. He then asked if I was a senior, and I said I was but not an Israeli citizen. He said that didn’t matter and charged me the lower fee. I then said “I want to tell you that this museum is very important to me. 38 and a half years ago my father died in the museum.” As I said it, I felt my heart leap.
He looked at me and asked for clarification “in the museum?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Then there is no entry fee for you,” he said softly, and proceeded to give me back all the money.
We both spontaneously welled up… it felt like about at the same level. We just looked at each other for a few moments. I didn’t think it was the right thing to do to challenge his touching act, so accepted with a kind of reverent thanks his gift.
In the Jewish High Holy Days, we sing:
Return again, return again,
Return to the land of your soul
Return again, return again,
Return to the land of your soul.
Return to what you are,
Return to who you are,
Return to where you are born and reborn again.
Of course, we don’t need to wait for that once a year opportunity. We can return to who we are and how we came to be anytime we wish. And we can thank those – past and present – whose positive examples inspire us to be our better selves.
Daniel's Derekh 
Lovely, Daniel. Just lovely.
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Ahhhh.
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Well, your list got to me as well as the clerk. You did a wonderful job of weaving together the history and significance of that remarkable visit.
Thank you.
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I am really enjoying these. Please keep them coming and thank you!
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Daniel, this brought tears to my eyes. I remember going there and saying a prayer for your father. It must be so hard to go back there.
Bonnie
Sent from my iPhone
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I had forgotten that you’d gone there. Amazing.
Did you actually ever meet my dad?
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Beautiful. Thanks for sharing.
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Daniel, what a touching and eloquent post! You are a wonderful writer and I felt drawn into your story. Now, I want to read more of what you’ve written! I think Zach got the literary genes from you and your dad😉
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Well, if only the writing skills went from son to father. Then I’d really have a chance!
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Daniel, your posts about your family are really touching.
Thank you for sharing your feelings and adventures with us.
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Thanks, Lisa. And of course you have known some of the people so that it gives you some added insights about them.
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Thank you so much for sharing all.Mickey and Earl Le Clair
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Hi Mickey and Earl! I’m so excited that you are reading my blog. Hope you are doing well in your valley home.
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Tears welled up in my eyes also. It is a beautiful post.
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It is really uplifting to see the connection you were able to make with this stranger. Does it feel like the people of Israel are a tighter group, then, let’s say, Americans? Do you feel like you share something with him despite not knowing him? I feel like you might have mentioned this to me when I was younger, but I don’t remember this story.
I am very happy you have recovered completely from your operation (lets do a hike this summer)! Have a fun time with my mom and enjoy the remainder of your trip!
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I’m glad you felt uplifted. It was such a positive emotional experience for me.
In answer to your question, I think it does very much feel that many people feel a deep and tight bond in this country. There is of course a powerful sense of “we are in this together” during war, and Israel is sort of in a permanent state of violent conflict with sone of its neighbors. But for me and others, there is also a real sense of shared Jewish peoplehood.
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