I never knew just how special my father-in-law, Reb Moshe, was until I saw the way in which he passed. As I shared with you last week he was squeezing every bit of life out of his life. As the illness became more acute, he seemed to float through the last few days of his life like an angel.

Although his medical condition worsened, he still defied every medical text book. He continued his holy ways of praying and studying, refusing any assistance, walking on his own, and eating and drinking. When the doctor arrived on Monday afternoon to examine him, he was shocked that he was still conscious, let alone independent. As he left, he remarked, “He is living off the essence of his soul, that is the only way I can explain this”. Before he left he asked Reb Moshe how he is feeling. He responded, “a little weak.” All of this without any pain medication.

Monday night was the yahrtziet (anniversary of the passing) of his father and he was looking forward to saying kaddish for him and studying mishna to honor his father’s soul. Services were called for 8:20pm, he walked into the dining room (the minyan was in the house) a half hour early and started getting ready. It is a Chasidic tradition to have a farbrengen (Chasidic gathering) in honor of a yahrtzeit after the services. So the family gathered around and sang songs, told stories and studied mishna.

Reb Moshe participated by saying L’chaim on soda water and by studying mishna. Then his wife and five daughters sat around the table as they had done so many times before, and as he sat at the head of the table dressed as he would be for a Shabbat dinner with his hat and jacket and prayer belt, they asked him if he would like to lay down. “Soon,” he said. They sang songs and he sat there very peacefully, responding to their singing and then slowly dozed off. As he sat in that position, his breathing got thinner and his soul slipped into the next world.

It was the most peaceful and special passing. The Talmud refers to it as a divine kiss, a passing that is reserved for the righteous and holy.

I believe that his dedication to living every second of life is what kept him present until the every last moment of life. He was always so present and lived so connected to G-d, Torah and mitzvoth. Even as his illness restricted much of his abilities, he rose above them all and remained focused and committed to his relationship with G-d.

As much as I thought I could learn from the way he lived, I am blown away by what I have learned from the way he passed.

Shabbat Shalom