Delayed Demise
The grandson of the liturgist, Rabbi David Chassin, zy”a, was in critical condition, stricken with a difficult illness. He was literally hovering between life and death. For one month, his family pleaded with me to visit him in the hospital and bless him. But, unfortunately, my time was taken up with public matters, and I could not find a moment to visit him, in spite of all my good intentions.
Finally, after one month, I found a window of time to visit this patient. I knew that his condition had deteriorated to the point that he was unconscious, connected to various machines which kept him alive. Nevertheless, his family members were very happy to see me and asked that I bless their son.
I entered his room, where I was saddened to note signs of imminent death. I was filled with sorrow over the fact that I had not come to bless him sooner, even though it had not been in my control. I prayed from the depths of my heart that he should recover. Then I left the room.
I had not reached the end of the hall, when the man’s wife started chasing after me. “Harav, Harav, my husband suddenly began speaking. He even asked to taste something after so many weeks of not eating! Please offer him another blessing. Your words will surely effect a complete recovery.”
I returned to his room and blessed him once again. I wrote the blessing on a paper, as is my custom, to lend credence to the berachah. For some reason, the words שבת קודש ומבורך (Blessed Holy Shabbat) stood before my eyes. I added these words to the page. Then I folded the paper and handed it to his family.
After Shabbat, the man returned his soul to its Maker. In retrospect, I understood why I thought of Shabbat when I was with him. It was a Heavenly sign that he would die only after enjoying the delight of Shabbat.
