The following is my piece in the October 10, 2019 edition
of the Philadelphia Jewish Link:
The Publisher’s Perspective
I only had to buy a lulav and etrog once in my life.
It was in 1991, when I was learning in yeshiva in Israel for the year following
my graduation from high school. Before Sukkot, I traveled to Yerushalayim with
a bunch of my friends in search of the perfect set of Arba Minim.
Having never purchased them on my own prior to that experience, I relied on the
advice of my friends and the various merchants that we visited, and I
ultimately chose a set that seemed to be satisfactory.
You may be asking; how could it be that a grown man has gone
through life having purchased a lulav and etrog on just one
occasion, 28 years ago? Don’t we celebrate Sukkot each and every year? Does he
not annually fulfill one of the primary mitzvot associated with this
special holiday?
The answer is that I have indeed been the proud owner of a set of Arba
Minim from as far back as I can remember. In fact, not only do I own a set
of Arba Minim each year, but they are always first-rate. The lulav
is tall and majestic, the etrog is consistently exceptional, and the hadassim
and aravot are unfailingly verdant. And that is all because my father
would have it no other way.
For my father, buying the Arba Minim was one of the
highlights of his year. I remember going with him as a young child to pick them
out, and I recall the amount of time and care that he took to inspect each one
in his quest for the perfect set. When I got older and was no longer living in
my parents’ house, my father would take my mother with him and engage in the
same methodical and meticulous process on an annual basis.
For many years, my parents came to our house for the first days of
Sukkot. Not only did my father bring for me a top quality lulav and
etrog; he also brought one for each of my children. It was a mitzvah
that he took extremely seriously, and I would venture to say that the time he
spent sitting with my children while assembling each set of the Arba Minim
and teaching them about every facet of the mitzvah was perhaps the
highlight of his chag.
This year is going to be different. It will be the first Sukkot
that I am going to spend without my father. There have been many moments when I
have felt that searing pain and intense sense of loss since he passed away five
months ago. Those deep feelings of grief manifest themselves in different ways
and at different times. They may be linked to a particular event or sometimes
to a fleeting thought. Either way, the ache is real, and it is something that I
am learning to live with.
However, as we prepare for Sukkot, I am dreading the void that I
will inevitably feel. We will miss having my father with us in the Sukkah and I
will miss having him sit next to me in shul.
Yet, I think that I will miss his presence most when I stand in
shul and hold the Arba Minim aloft during Hallel and the Hakafot.
And that is because for the first time in a very long time, my father will not
be bringing me a lulav and etrog.
As I look around my Sukkah this year and see my beautiful family
all around me, I will thank Hashem for all that I have, and I will remember my
beloved father, who will be deeply missed.
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