The stories
in Bereishit come to an end with today’s parsha, Vayechi. It not only presents us with the death of the
patriarch, Jacob, it ends with the death of his son, Yosef. In each case, we are presented with an
approach to impending death which seems natural and healthy.
Jacob draws
his sons around him and foretells what will happen to each at the end of
time. In a sense he is also commenting
on the ways in which they have lived their lives but he is also blessing them
all. He gives them directions about his
burial so they are not left to decide between themselves what should be done with
his body when he dies.
Joseph ends
up having a relationship with his brothers who fear that he will not forgive
them for the crimes and sins which they have committed. He does not bear a grudge, makes peace with
his brothers, and also makes known his wishes for burial of his bones when the
Children of Israel will leave Mitzrayim.
In both
cases, Jacob and Joseph are involved in a process of conscious dying. They do not seem frightened about what is
happening to them and they do face death squarely. They repair broken relationships, do not go
to the grave without first blessing their progeny, and make known their wishes
for burial.
For many of
us, the words of Torah about the end of life are instructive, but in a sense we
might be more inclined to agree with the words of Woody Allen when he said,
“I’m not afraid of dying. I just don’t
want to be there when it happens.” I know that there is no one approach to
conscious dying that individuals take. Yet,
there are approaches which help our loved ones as we transition from physical
life.
I remember
that for my mother her gift to me was leaving a notebook with every piece of
legal information that I could possibly need after her death which would make
handling her affairs much easier. For my
father, it was giving voice to the fact that he knew he was dying and was not
afraid of the process. That in itself
was a gift to those of us gathered around his bedside. Both of my parents also
spoke to me about their wishes for burial although we made no advanced arrangements,
following Jewish tradition to guide us.
Some
individuals approaching the end of life write an ethical will as a means of
sharing their legacy. This Jewish
tradition dates back to the Middle Ages and is a parent’s letter “to his or her
children, offering hope, guidance, and wisdom for life in the years ahead.”
(Wise Aging) This will is not about
material possessions although it often becomes part of treasured family
heirlooms. It might address important
events in one’s life, life shaping experiences, hard lessons and what one has learned
from them, things for which one is grateful, etc. It is not meant to be an instrument of rebuke
or self-pity, nor is it designed to instill guilt in one’s off-spring. Unlike a memoir it is not written for a large
audience, rather it is written specifically for one’s loved ones.
In today’s
parasha, Jacob and Joseph met death head on, so to speak. They made sure that relationships with loved
ones were intact, that family conflicts did not prevail. Torah shows us that leaving that kind of
legacy is important. Personally, I think
it would be healthier for such conversations to take place much in advance of
facing death, but confronting the death of a loved one can have the benefit of
leading to renewed relationships and openness that lead to cultivating the
well-being of those who are left to carry on one’s legacy. This parasha has much to teach us with regard
to an approach to conscious dying.
Shabbat
Shalom.
No comments:
Post a Comment