Copyright 2000, 2001 SWL
 

When these events began I was already an old man of 83. Elaine, my wife of 60 years had died 6 month before. Fortunately for her it was a massive heart attack that had allowed her to die quickly. She didn't make it to the hospital. I was beginning to get over the shock of not having her around to talk to. The waking up alone was still sad for me. I had a helper give me my meals and clean the house that I rattled around in without my sweet love. Obviously, my children are grown and most of their children are grown and have children of their own. Eighteen great grand children are an honor and pleasure. Even the ones in diapers give me great joy. I would not have traded my life with Elaine or my decedents for the world. Elaine would have loved to hold the little ones and talk to them. Like I did for my children I still read to my grand and great grandchildren. Little things make for great memories.

It all started in synagogue in a Friday night during something we call Family Service, a once a month event that brings out some of the children and their parents. It is usually a joyous time that brings out part of the best of what this congregation has to offer. One family, Deborah and Walter Silverman had a set of 5-year-old twins; one's a boy, Saul, and a girl, Raquel (Rocky). They also had a 2-year-old named Aaron and another baking. Deborah was barely showing. I had gotten friendly with the parents who had me over to their home several times both before and after Elaine's death. Aaron and the twins loved to play with "Uncle Max". Although they tired me out they were too much fun to ignore them. They unofficially made my great grand children 21.

It came during the service the time to bless our children. All the parents including Walter and Deborah gathered their children for the blessing. That night I had none of my decedents with me. As the parents blessed the boys to be like Ephraim and Manasseh, Rocky noticed that I was alone that night and asked me to come near to her. I obliged. As the parents blessed the girls to be like Sarah, Rebecca, Rachael, and Leah, Rocky put her hand on my head just like her parents did to her.

Then the parents blessed the children the same way the priest blessed Israel for generations: "May the L_rd bless you and keep you; May the L_rd make his countenance shine upon you; May the L_rd lift up his countenance toward you and give you peace."

It was after this blessing that she took her hand off of my head. She then kissed my forehead.

"Well," I said to Walter and Deborah. "I guess I'm your grandchild." We laughed. The thought of them who are young enough to be my grandchildren as my grandparents is the sort of cute thing that a young child would come up with. After services we talked about various things. When it was time for us to leave they invited me over for Sabbath lunch. It was an invitation that I gratefully accepted.

As we were leaving Rocky said, "I now take care you."

I smiled. What she said made me warm inside on a cold night. I kissed her on the forehead and thanked her. Deborah put up her hands as if to say, "I don't know." I acknowledged Deborah's response with a smile and nod.

After services on Saturday I spent a pleasant afternoon with the Silvermans.
The children took me to play with them. Saul and Aaron wore me out. Rocky treated me like I was her little boy. She was getting into the taking part very seriously. I guess that she needed to believe that I was her child. Eventually they made me very tired and I slept in a soft, comfortable chair.

The next Monday I noticed that my vision was blurry. It didn't make a difference which pair of glasses I wore. I couldn't see too far, and I couldn't read. I immediately made an appointment with Dr. Anderson, the eye doctor I have been seeing for nearly two decades. He took me that afternoon. He attempted to try to correct my lens strength, but that didn't work. He then gave me every possible test that he could give me in the office. Again there was no reason available. He made the appointment for the next day as soon as I got home.

For the next day's appointment I took a taxi to the radiologist where I had the MRI. The technician had me remove all metal and asked me to lie down. She slid my head into the center of the machine and told me that I would be hearing some drumming sounds. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. I was woken up with what seemed a few moments later and was told they would be giving me a gallium dye that would show my brain better. I told her there was nothing there.

"We'll see about that," she said in a business like manner.

"You don't understand. There's nothing there. I've lost my marbles years ago." I pointed to my scalp. "Besides all my gray matter leaked to my hair."

"That's okay. We'll find your tiny little brain even if your skull is too thick."

I didn't mine her beating me. By the time the conversation was over the doctor had injected the dye into my vein. My head was again brought to the center of the machine and I heard the familiar sounds of the vibrations. In less than a half hour I was again woken up and told I would find out the results in a day or two.

I took a taxi home and was greeted by the phone ringing. It was Dr. Anderson.

"You need to see me in the office right away," he said.

It's not good news. Is it doc?"

"We'll discuss that when you get here."

"I will be there in about an hour."

"That will be fine."

I took another taxi to Dr. Anderson's office and was told by the nurse to go right into the conference room. I sat there about an hour. I would have read something if my eyesight had been normal. Then again, if my eyesight had been normal I wouldn't be in the office about to discuss some disaster to my body.

Dr. Anderson came into the room and stuck out his hand for me to shake. "How are you, Max?"

I shook his hand and said, "Cut the crap, doc. You know how I am better than
I do. By the speed that you called me I assume that it is bad news."

He sighed. "There is no good way to tell you this." He paused, looking for the right words. "Unfortunately you are right. You have a tumor that is wrapped around your optic nerves. It is very near the auditory nerves and parts of the brain that deal with your autonomic system. Although I believe that it is inoperable, I would like to send you to a neurosurgeon and an oncologist to make sure."

"How long?"

"I don't know."

"How long, doc?"

"Probably less then 3 months. Definitely less than a year."

"I will make the appointments just in case."

"Yea, just in case, besides the chemotherapy could save you."

He wasn't that confident that I had a chance.

My first appointment two days later was with the neurosurgeon. He told me that if I survived the operation I would likely be deaf and blind. He told me that if the chemotherapy reduced the tumor he might try some surgery in 6 months to a year. Deaf and blind if I was lucky is not too good a prospect, and I don't have a year or even 6 months. But then again, there is always a miracle.

About 2 hours later I had an appointment with the oncologist. She told me that she could start me on chemotherapy the next day. One of the things she warned me about is being nauseous. Another is that I would loose my hair.

I lifted my hat and said, "What hair?"

She smiled. Her line of work is usually very grim. There are few victories and many defeats. I pitied the brave warrior. Her work did not give her enough joy. Just like "Hawkeye Pierce" she did not let the bastard win.

I started the chemotherapy. I couldn't eat and my shinny top became the Yule Brenner look. Another MRI 2 months later showed that the tumor had grown. I stopped the chemotherapy. With the chemotherapy I can't eat and die. Without it I can eat and die. At least I can have the pleasure of the food.

By that time I had told my children and some of my grandchildren that I would probably die within the year. I also changed my will to include a small amount of my substantial fortune for the Silvermans. I know that money is a poor thank you, but it would help their struggling finances.

On Sabbath morning about 3 months after Rocky blessed me, I felt dizzy and slumped in my seat. It was vague the way I experienced things from that time forward. I sensed people shouting. I felt a tiny hand touch me, then someone telling that little hand to get away. I sensed a siren and then shaking of my whole body, as the siren seemed to be all around me. I sensed crying and talking that sometimes sounded like my children and some of my grandchildren. Occasionally I felt a kiss or a hand holding mine. After a while I felt difficulty breathing and then nothing. The nothing lasted a long time.

The next thing I knew was the static. It looked and sounded like an old black and white television that had no antenna attached to it. Then I was able to focus my eyes. I saw to my left above the plastic bars and rails a young couple. He was handsome in his red hair and beard. She looked like a black haired, younger, slightly fatter very ample version of Deborah. He put his right arm around Deborah" as they both smiled. They said cute little soft baby type words about me being their little baby. As they did I tried to reach out with my hands. She picked me up as if I was that baby, cradling my head. She then asked if her baby (me) was hungry. As she did she pulled up her blouse and loosened a flap on her bra and allowed me to suckle at one of her breasts. I took in the milk like it was a life force. I felt the man's shadow above me and noticed he kissed her on the lips and she kissed back. He then kissed me on the head. After a while I felt her pick me up to her shoulder and pat me on the back gently to burp me. After she burped me she gave me the other breast. She again burped me. I was content and felt sleepy lying my head on the diaper on her shoulder feeling drowsy.

She then spoke to me as if I was an adult. "Max, I know you're in there and I am telling you what happened to you to the best of my knowledge. I am Raquel Silverman now Raquel Levittan. You have just met my husband and your father, Joel. Just after I blessed you, you got very sick. In later years my parents said you went into a coma I put my hand on you before they took you away in the ambulance. In that hospital you died. By putting my hand on you before they took you away I took your soul into me where you stayed for years. When I was called up to the Torah for my bat mitzvah I put my hand on my tummy for you. Just before I became Mrs. Levittan I did the same. When I was pregnant for the first time I knew that it was you. I was going to name you Moses after your real name, but that became a little difficult, so I named you Miriam after our law giver's sister."

I lied there content and happy about what she said and the chance to live my life over again. I drifted off to sleep.

Miriam? That startled me and I cried like a baby.