I can tell by the tone of the voice on the answering machine. The voice is halting and quiet. The halting manner is indicative of the hesitancy in finally deciding to disclose to the rabbi that everything isn’t peachy keen at home. The quiet voice broadcasting the hope that by speaking in whispers the problem will somehow disappear.
As soon as I hear one of these almost inaudible messages I call back to set up the appointment.
Often the wife will ask if anyone will see them when they arrive; I assure them that more congregants than they can imagine have made the trek to my office and have emerged unscathed and unseen from the encounter.
Immediately upon arrival even before a word is uttered I can often sense the seriousness of the issue.
When a couple takes seats far apart and each directs their gaze to the opposite side of the room I know the matter has been brewing for quite a while and has finally reached the boiling point.
When the Feldblums (name changed) arrived I quickly set out another box of tissues. When the tears began Mrs. Feldblum apologized for her outburst. I assured her that if someone doesn’t cry in my office the meeting was probably unnecessary. Indeed tears are almost de rigueur for any crisis meeting in my office.
After Mrs. Feldblum regained her composure she began to speak.
She has a health issue that’s causing her great stress.
Her son wasn’t on the straight and narrow which was painful to her and her elderly father’s health was in decline. The real issue bothering her however was (that which is almost always the “real” issue) — abandonment.
Feeling abandoned by one’s spouse or by Hashem is the root of so many of our problems.
The feeling that we’re alone and that our family friends and even Hashem has left us to fend for ourselves in the stormy seas of stress is overwhelming and debilitating.
We are all mature enough to realize that we will have ups and downs in This World and not everything will go our way. However when the problems are so constant and seemingly random we often believe we’ve been abandoned and left to drift without anyone even caring for us.
I looked at Mrs. Feldblum and attempted to remind her of the blessings in her life — and there are many. She has a wonderful son-in-law who is a budding Torah scholar and two wonderful grandchildren. She does a lot of very appreciated chesed in the neighborhood. She’s a wonderful receptionist with a sterling reputation at a local doctor’s office.
I then looked at both Mr. and Mrs. Feldblum and reminded them of a fact too many of us forget far too often.
“Hashem hasn’t forgotten about you. However He wants you to face the crisis together. He wants you Laibel to remember the legendary answer of Rav Aryeh Levin ztz”l who when asked by the doctor treating Rav Aryeh’s wife ‘What seems to be the problem?’ answered ‘My wife’s foot hurts us!’ ”
I looked at Laibel Feldblum and hesitantly and quietly said “My friend Laibel your wife’s heart hurts do you feel the pain?”
Slowly they turned their gazes to each other. They looked at each other and recalled why they decided to build a Jewish home together 22 years ago.
And then Laibel Feldblum said the words Mrs. Feldblum so desperately needed to hear: “Rabbi my wife’s heart hurts us.” —