An Unannounced Hospital Visit

Several years ago, I finally blogged about an encounter that I had with my late father during the shiva mourning period (see “They Never Really Leave – Visits From My Dad Z”L After His Passing” on my blog page). What was so uncanny about it was how a cousin of mine also had a vivid dream about my late father years later and the both of us encountered him entering or inside a subway station. However, in honor of my late mother’s 28th yahrtzeit coming up this Thursday, 21 Kislev, falling on 25 November, I decided to write down my encounter with Mom.

We have been living in Israel now for over 23 years. We are very much settled, our children are grown and living their own lives. Our lives in NY are worlds away in my mind. Likewise, my parents who passed away during my first years of marriage, are also now intangible. I yearn for them daily. I only wish that I was able to experience them enjoy and relish in their grandsons and be a part of their lives just like my inlaws and my siblings in law are. My older two sons who are now 29 and 28 respectively were just a toddler and an infant when their paternal grandparents passed. Having no memories of them, they only know them through pictures and anecdotes that my wife and I share with them.

The year of our aliya, 1998, was a very anxiety-ridden, scary, and very eventful year to say the least. Beginning in January 1998, I needed to deal with very minor health issues to get out of the way before we moved continents. It was some minor surgery that required general anesthesia that was performed at NY Hospital of Queens (formerly known as Booth Memorial Hospital). What was coincidental was that about 25 years earlier, I had an emergency appendectomy at that same hospital at the tender age of 5. It was very traumatic, yet my Mom refused to leave my side. I was the dramatic wreck in the pediatric ward and I have a feeling that some of the nurses demanded to be paid overtime for dealing with the likes of me. If they didn’t, they should have.  Well, thanks to GD, I lived to tell the tale and the hospital staff was more than glad to see me go.

Fast forward to January 1998, I was happily married with 3 sons and it is safe to say that I was no longer a crybaby. Off to what was Booth Memorial Hospital I went for some minor surgery. Having the memory of an Asian Elephant, I realized that this was the same operating room that I was in as a 5-year-old. I know. It sounds ridiculous, but I do have a knack for remembering these things and I’m generally accurate. My son Aryeh (the now 28-year-old) inherited this talent (?) from me.  I remember smiling to myself when I realized that I recognized the place, shrugged my shoulders, and thought, “OK, that’s nice. Let’s just get this over with”. The surgery was over and I came to in recovery. I was by myself, as my wife was home the kids and I was perfectly fine with taking a cab back home as we lived nearby in Kew Gardens Hills. However, after gaining some strength back, something very strange happened. I felt a warmth and a presence that I haven’t felt in some years. It was the type of feeling that just grew and the type of feeling you have when someone is looking over you when you are turned in another direction. The presence was over to the left of me. I didn’t see anything, but I sure as hell felt it. I looked up towards where it came from. I smiled, shook my head, and looked back at where it emanated from, snorted a bit and I said, “you didn’t have to do that”.  The presence got stronger, as she realized that I recognized her aura. It was warm. It was beautiful. It was love. It was Mom. I just looked over to the point of emanation and smiled. I said, “I love you, Mom”. The presence stayed for only a short time and then it was gone.

One could argue and state that I have a wild imagination and that I just got out of surgery and the anesthesia had not yet worn off. Well, skeptics, you can think what you want. I really don’t care. I know my Mom when I sense her. She was my first home. I was inside of her for over 8 months (premie and proud I am). She was my Mom. Nobody is going to tell me otherwise.

It wasn’t scary, nor was I traumatized. It was pleasant, loving and it is so incredible to know that she just wanted to let me know that I wasn’t alone.

As I mentioned in my blog about my Dad, and I tell everyone that I care about when they lose someone close to them, they never go away. They always pop up every now and again. The visits are warm, welcoming and it helps you realize that the nesahama is eternal.

Cheers to you, Mom. You know that I think about you every single day and my love for you is eternal, just like your love for me is.

לזכר נשמת אימי מורתי מרים בת חיים נח ז”ל

Mom & me. Grant Park. Woodmere, NY. Circa 1971.