By Norman Bossert

 

Dear Gabriel,

     It has been a long time since I last saw you. And I have come to realize that I may not get to spend as much time with you in the days and months ahead as I would like. What is a grandfather to do in such a case?

     Well, I enjoy writing a lot. So I have decided that the day may come when you may wonder what I believe, what I do, what my dreams and hopes are, and what I think about things that are spiritual and even political. So, for a while, I will send letters to you, Gabriel, through to the newspaper, thinking that some other grandpas and grandmas out there may want to do the same.

     A good place to start, I think, is with a special moment between you and me. I don’t know if you remember this moment Gabriel, but I do, and in remembering it, I sleep better at night. A few months ago grandma and I were visiting you at your daddy’s house in Fairfax County. I was sitting on daddy’s couch and was watching a movie you said you wanted to watch. I forgot what it was, but you were enjoying it.

     At one point you got a bit bored with the movie and sat on the floor to play with some of your toys. I joined you there and we joked with one another. Though I am uncertain what you were thinking, you decided to climb into my lap. You put your head on my chest, then looked at me and told me that you could hear my heart. As I am getting on in years, that was certainly good news. Then I took your hand and put it on my chest.

     “This is my heart,” I said, “but every time it beats, it’s you I feel in me. You are my heart, Gabriel.”

     You then dove back to your toys and played again. I rubbed your back for a minute or two while you played. I got back onto the couch and did what lots of grandpas do; I fell asleep. You woke me up as you climbed into my lap to watch some more of your movie, or so I thought. Instead you took my hand and placed it on your chest.

     “Do you feel that, Grandpa?” you said.

     I shook my head “yes.”

     “You are always here. I love you.”

     We hugged for a second and then you went to your daddy and did the same thing with him. I must tell you Gabriel that I got a little tear in the corner of my eye.

     Gabriel, in the Jewish religion, we believe that each of us has a divine spark in us. I am hard pressed to explain that in a way that you will understand. Maybe that is because I don’t understand it too well either. So, try to think of it this way. When the world was created, the Torah teaches us that G-D breathed life into Adam, the first man. By so doing, G-D put a bit of himself into we ordinary mortals. (As you get older you will learn that many people believe that the Bible is filled with made up stories. Other people believe that the Bible is exactly what it says. You will have to choose what you believe for yourself, so I would advise listening, reading, and speaking with people much smarter than I.)

     Now, Gabriel, if a bit of the spark of G-D lives in each of us, that has implications for how we live our lives. If there is some G-D like quality that inhabits our spiritual self, then we all become capable of doing G-D’s work here.

     In the Jewish religion, we are taught that it is the things we do, not what we believe, that brings us closer to G-D. So we must always try to do good things! And we must respect that many people do good things regardless of their beliefs.

     When you put my hand on your chest, I know it is because what I said touched you in some way. I know that you wanted to please me, too. But in the deepest sense, what you did was show me that you learned that no matter the distance, no matter your age or mine for that matter, even if we were to never see each other again, the best of who we are and the love we feel for one another burns in our souls so long as we live.

     The last time I said goodbye to you, I started to walk away. I was sad knowing that it would be a long time before I would be able to see you again. As I walked, I turned and called your name. When you turned, I pointed to my heart. You looked back and smiled. It was as if I had thrown a ball to you, and you to me. And, we both caught it.

     Being a Jew, Gabriel, is to reach deep into thousands of years of history that courses through our veins and know that no matter the walls thrown up to separate us, our souls are tied together forever. Soon, I will write you another letter, my grandson. Until then, remember that you are the heart that beats in my chest.

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Love, Grandpa

(Norman Bossert is a member of the Brevard Jewish Community.)