by Emily Bell '27 Thomas Bell, my grandfather, died at home after many long months of hospice care at the age of 82. I was 18 years old. I had spent countless Sundays over the previous decade or so driving with my dad over to my grandfather’s local supermarket to do his shopping for the week—an act of care necessitated by a degenerative illness that left my grandfather largely homebound. In the years leading up to his death, he was diagnosed with multiple cancers for which he received treatment, ultimately entering home hospice about six months before finally being gathered to his people.
During those six months, I watched my dad and his siblings provide round-the-clock care for their dying father. They took alternating shifts at his house, staying with him during workdays and through long nights. One of my uncles told me that it was like having a newborn again, with all of the fear and sleep deprivation but none of the joy and hope that comes with new life. At 18, I was horrified to think about having to watch a parent slowly fade away into helplessness.
I was reminded of this experience while reading Parshat Vayechi, the final parsha of Sefer Bereishit, as it describes Yaakov Avinu concluding his affairs on earth, blessing his sons and grandsons, and making stipulations for his burial in the Land of Canaan. Our parsha shows Yaakov, once the formidable and commanding father of 13, now being cared for by his sons in his final days and then after his death, when they carry his body to be buried with his forefathers. In this way, it provides an opportunity to explore the nature of caretaking relationships between parents and children and the legacy of care that parents pass to their children.
Throughout the parsha, we see Yaakov and his sons navigating the transition from caretaker to care recipient and vice versa. Yaakov’s blessings represent a final act of parental care for his sons and grandsons. Blessing his grandsons, Ephraim and Menashe, Yaakov says:
The God in whose ways my fathers Avraham and Yitzchak walked, the God who has been my shepherd from birth until this day, the messenger who has redeemed me from all harm, Bless the boys and in them may my name and the names of my fathers Avraham and Yitzchak be recalled and may they be teeming multitudes upon the earth (Bereishit 48:15-16).
Here, Yaakov’s parting wish for his grandchildren exhorts God to show them the same care that God showed to Yaakov, since he will no longer be able to provide it. His work concluded, Yaakov dies, and the parsha describes how Yosef and his brothers prepare his body for burial and carry him to the tomb at Machpelah.
Yaakov’s final moments speak to the reciprocal nature of care, particularly in parent-child relationships. I learned this lesson through conversations with my dad in the years since his father passed. I remember him telling me that caring for him in his final months was somehow both the most difficult thing he’s ever done and an immense privilege. Alongside the sorrow of watching his father slowly die, he felt that he could finally repay, in a small way, the lifetime of love and care that he received from his father. My grandfather’s name was recalled in the way his children cared for him at the end of his life. When children become the caretakers, the acts of care that they received are reflected back at their parents.
A midrash teaches that Yaakov was the first person to experience illness before dying:
From the day when the heavens and the earth were created no man was ill… but in every place where he happened to be…he sneezed, (and) his soul went out through his nostrils; until our father Jacob came and prayed for mercy concerning this, and he said before the Holy One, blessed be He: Sovereign of all the worlds! Do not take my soul from me until I have charged my sons and my household… “And it came to pass after these things, that one said to Joseph, Behold, thy father is sick” (Bereishit 48:1) (Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer 52:6).
On its face, this is a very challenging and perhaps even cruel idea for anyone who has lost someone to a degenerative illness. However, reading this midrash alongside the tender moments in the parsha in which we see Yaakov and his sons navigating the care transition can allow us to recognize that there is something sacred, maybe even blessed, in the give-and-take of a caretaking relationship.
Reciprocating care to parents as they navigate illness and dying offers parents a small glimpse of the legacy that they leave with their children. The acts of care that we receive from our parents radiate outward when we care for them and others in turn. In this way, the names of parents are recalled in the actions of their children. May we be the reasons for our elders’ names to be recalled.
______________________________________________________________________________
Emily Bell is a student in the Core Semikha program at Yeshivat Maharat with a passion for Jewish texts going back to her Yiddish studies as an undergraduate. When she’s not in the beit midrash, she enjoys weightlifting, baking, and exploring New York. Emily earned a BA in Comparative Literature and Jewish Studies from Smith College, where she focused on modern Yiddish literature. She has studied Yiddish at the Yiddish Book Center and Tel Aviv University.