Brenda's speech for Daniel’s 2nd yahrzeit

Daniel’s 2^nd yahrzeit

First of all, I want to thank you for coming.  Your being here touches me deeply.  It has been two years since Daniel died.  In reserving time today and tonight to his memory, I thought I would share some stories about Daniel since we all came tonight to remember him.  One thing that characterized Daniel was his sense of humor.  He never used his humor to degrade another person.  Usually, he used his humor to defuse a situation.

I remember once a friend thought she was being funny when she said to Daniel, “I can’t believe you are being such an idiot.”  Everyone stopped talking.  It was so quiet.  Where was that remark coming from?  If someone had spoken to me like that, I think I would have shriveled up in a corner.  Instead, Daniel responded,”Well,if I wasn’t such an idiot, we probably wouldn’t be friends.”  Everyone laughed.  In a kind way, he exposed her misconduct and everyone laughed with relief.

 Another incident in which Daniel’s quick wit saved the day was when I was anxious about passing my licensing exam.  There were hundreds of terms and tests to memorize and I was anxious.  As the date neared, I shared my feelings of anxiety with everyone I spoke to.  Then, the night before the exam, I froze.  If I flunked, I would need to tell all these people about my failure.  They would know I didn’t make the grade!  How would that make me look?  Plus, each time I would relay the result, I would have to relive the ignominy of my failure. I could not think of anything else the night before the test.  Daniel came to my rescue by saying, “Don’t worry about that.  If you flunk,all you have to do is tell people that on your way to the exam, a bunch of aliens kidnapped you.  That you never got to the exam after all.” I never had to use that excuse but it relieved me of all that fear that night and the next day.

One day we had a family for the Seder.  During the seder, the woman dropped her wine glass and it broke in smithereens. The woman was stricken.  Daniel said, “Don’t worry about it.  I make it a point to drop a glass at every meal.  You just relieved me of that responsibility.  Now I don’t have to break one.  You did it for me.” 

Daniel had silly nicknames for people that they loved.  One friend he called “the jolly green midget.”  When we asked him why, he said, “Well, she wasn’t a giant, but she was always cheerful.”  When asked where the green came from, he answered, “She is colorful.”  He called Eric, “the Jazz man.”  Devora was “Dee Dee.”  Racheli was the English name, “Rachel.”  Moshe was “Boy, Boy.”  Amira was “T.K.” for “terrific kid.”  Noa was “Noa Zayit.”  Sometimes when guests were over, Daniel would call me “Mrs. Rubin.”  Once we had a Ba’al Tshuva over for lunch who asked if that was a religious custom.  I teased Daniel that he didn’t need to remember my name that way because if he every got married again, he just would have to call his new wife, “Mrs. Rubin.”  We had to abandon one nickname.  He called me “Wifey.”  I found the term patronizing.  I said, “Well, if you call me “Wife-E”, I could call you “Hus-E.” It sounded like “hussy.”  He loved the name.  I had to beg him to stop calling himself that!

Another example of his sense of humour was when he mistakenly wore the pants of one suit with the jacket of another to a friend’s weeding.  I only noticed when we were entering the simcha.  Daniel assured me, “Noone ever looks at what men wear.  Noone will even notice!”  As we walked through the door into the hall, a girlfriend noticed and asked why Daniel was wearing a mismatched suit.  Daniel replied, “It’s funny,  I have another suit just like this one in my closet at home!”  By objectifying hurts, Daniel was able to transcend other people’s petty concerns.  He was an individual and could tweak his nose at conventional thinking and conventional wisdom.

On Friday nights Daniel would go to shul and pick up guests.  If I hadn’t cooked up a storm,he  knew the rule was “only single guys.”  Single guys would be okay with we augmented out food with canned gefilte fish.  One time he bought home a creepy person who was a psychologist.  This psychologist asked our young daughter what she thought about a recent unsolved murder of a 5 year old beauty queen.  The next Shabbat I asked Daniel not to pick up anyone from shul.  He said, “Aw, come on! I thought maybe I could bring home an ax murderer this week.”  We did have wonderful guests too.  One young man from Brazil was a regular guest.  When he got engaged, he brought his fiancé over to meet us.  Usually, he would bring home balei tshuva from different shuls.  For months he would bring home guest from Aish HaTorah.  They would ask questions about Yiddishkeit.  Daniel would share his personal transformation from Chabad.  He would tell them about Herman Wouk’s book, This is My G-d, and Eliezer Kitov’s Book “To Be A Jew.” He would share with them stories that would show he was sensitive to their needs.  Sometimes, they would ask particular information about Aish HaTorah.  We belong to 3 shuls—Beth Jacob Congregation, Young Israel of Century City, and Chabad.  So, we did not know that much about Aish HaTorah.  One Shabbat, he teased me that he was a covert agent working for the Chabad underground at Aish Hatorah.  That joke backfired! The guest told on us! The following Shabbos, the Gabai told Daniel they were going to try to get “true” Aish HaTorah families to offer hospitality and denied Daniel access to their guests. 

Now I have been missing Daniel for two years.  I miss many of his characteristics.  This year, I focused on his humor, his gentle humor, his outrageous humor, his ability to deflate a situation.  Now, according to his “boy, boy,” this is the way we honor his memory most by visiting his kever and celebrating his life.  So, dear friends and family, thank you for honoring his memory by coming tonight.

From Racheli

The Haftarah read after this week’s parasha is taken from Melachim Alef and enumerates different vessels made for the first Beit Hamikdash. In Sefardi communities, they read among other vessels about the two pillars of copper made by Shlomo Hamelech that stood at the entrance of the Beit Hamikdash. Interestingly enough, the pillars were given names, an uncommon phenomenon for inanimate objects in the Torah. Different explanations are given for why they were given names and why specifically the names of Yachin and Boaz. According to Radak, the pillars were given names in order to provide a positive message for those who passed through the doorway to the Beit Hamikdash. Yachin, the Radak explains, is an expression of establishment that Hashem should keep the Beit Hamikdash established forever, and Boaz, which can be translated from “ba oz” conveys “strength within”- a blessing that Hashem should place strength within the Beit Hamikdash. Rabbi Torczyner (pronounced Torch-ee-ner) helps us understand why that message was imparted through the pillars next to the doorway and not through another part of the Beit Hamikdash. He suggests that there is already a precedent of imparting messages through our doorposts, as was done prior to Yetziat Mitzrayim with the blood of the lamb and is a powerful symbol until today with the mezuzot we place on our doorposts. An entrance to one place is an entrance to a new domain and is also a sign of an exit from the previous domain. He explains how the pillars marked the point at which the Jewish people transitioned from the mundane to the sacred- they left the outside world to enter Hashem’s sanctuary. Our houses, batei knesset, and we ourselves should be mikdashei me’at, where we are careful to fill ourselves and our places of living and of worship with holiness. The Chida (read about in Wellsprings of Torah) comments about the naming of the pillars by quoting Chazal who say that the yetzer hara is renewed each day and only with Hashem by our side can we conquer it BUT one will only receive help from Hashem if he/she chooses the fight the yetzer hara on his/her own. The Chida thus understands the message of the two copper pillars that if a person Yachin, will prepare himself and work to act against the evil inclination, with there be “Boaz,” strength within him to help him succeed in the battle.

My father a”h was a man who never stopped “lehachin”- he was a man who strived for and aimed toward increasing holiness in his middot and in his Torah learning. His countless sefarim that he owned and actually read are replete with notes to himself on how and where he would like to improve, his conversations with us always contained a dvar torah along with a check in that we were taking good enough care of ourselves, and the amount of Torah that he learned in the last number of years just increased and increased. He had seen and experienced the world of the mundane and just wanted to work on increasing the sacred. I miss him and his love terribly and draw upon his inspiration every time I listen to a shiur on a commute home or use free time to learn Torah. I pray that we, his descendants, are a credit to his holy neshama. Thank you so much for coming. May his neshama have an aliya.