One Hour Left to Live

There is a Midrash that states that Moshe, with but one hour left to live, did the extraordinary. Healthy and sprightly as when he was young, vigorous and able to do whatever he wanted, he sought to impart his final blessings to the Jewish people. 

A dear friend of mine - and many of us know stories like these - was told that he had a minimal amount of time left to live. With end-stage pancreatic cancer, he sought to leave his young wife (he died at the age of  37) with the fondest memories he could impart, and sharing together the brief time they had left. They fulfilled their greatest dreams, mostly travel-related, leaving a living-will for their children as well, with poignant heart-felt messages for their two sons. 

The mother of a student of mine shared a similar story. I had taught four of her sons, and the mother, who was no stranger to tragedy, helped her husband guide their children in the world that would be after his passing. They told their oldest, now married with children, "I want you to know that I am your father. You cannot fill my shoes; do not try to be a father to your younger siblings - be their brother. They will only have one father."

All of these are heart-wrenching, and transformative experiences, that shape generations. 

The same way Moshe Rabbeinu used the last hour left to give guidance and share his love for his children, bnei Yisrael, he likewise lived his life. Were he to have agreed to Hashem's offer to create a new nation from him alone, he would not have become the leader who would use his final hour to guide the nation he had partnered with Hashem to create. Very ironically, Moshe's own children were not to enter the land, and according to Chazal bring children to the world who would perpetuate his legacy in the land; Rabbi Sacks suggests that that is because his children were not present at Sinai and did not have the formative experience of hearing Hashem's voice, but it seems self-evident that the larger message is something like a dear friend, Raphael Wilson once shared, "Yichus is like potatoes, the best part is underground." One cannot rest on their laurels and in so far as it is daunting to craft one's destiny when one's parents are great, it behooves us to be who we are and if, as parents, educators, or members of society we do not have children, or ones who measure up to us, what is important is that we inspire the next generation, at which point, they are for all intents and measures, metaphorically, and truly in reality, our progeny, those who will carry on what we have to offer to the world.