I miss you my beloved brother Yossi.
Tonight, which ushers in the seventh day of Pesach, marks the 22 years since my brother Yossi's passing. I have now spent more years without him than with him and yet, the pain of his absence never dissipates. I am now more than twice the age he was at the time of his passing, and yet, his personality looms so large in my life – not as a figure from my childhood, but as an old soul. He will forever be an ever-inspiring presence, a big brother to me, and to so many others in the truest sense.
When he was diagnosed with Ewing Sarcoma, I spent two years with him at Sloan Kettering. In reflecting on and remembering that time, my too-young brother taught me in his death what is most important about life.
In spite of the tremendous pain he endured, he was always optimistic. He was able to see both his illness and his world through a beautiful lens. He saw the good in everyone, even if it sometimes meant that person had not yet experienced his potential. He had the ability to make one want to be as good as he or she could be.
All of his life, Yossi always maximized his own time and potential, learning to play a variety of instruments and becoming a Hebrew scribe. He literally never wasted any precious time and always went from one project to the next. He lived almost as if he somehow knew that his days on this earth would be numbered.
But his maximization never ended with himself: he embodied the Rebbe's mandate to love all Jews, always seeking them out- on the streets, in office buildings, and later on, in the hospital wards, even when he was battling the illness, to help them do a mitzvah, and to offer kind and encouraging words to those in need. His love for every human being was boundless.
Much like Avrohom, the first Jew who went against the tide and forged a new path spreading the word about ethical monotheism with kindness and love in spite of the fierce and dangerous opposition he faced, Yossi had the unusual combination of sweetness, gentleness, tenacity and fearlessness in getting good things done. He always persevered, never giving up on anything or anyone.
Tonight we commemorates the splitting of the Red Sea. Perhaps the date of Yossi’s passing is auspicious, for one of his strengths was how he too seemed to split obstacles, going through them to get to the other side, accomplishing his goals. e dived right in to whatever he attempted and gave it his all, fully and with no restrictions. He grabbed life with both hands and LIVED it. And he ALWAYS maintained a positive, upbeat attitude, even in the years during his aggressive treatments in Sloan Kettering.
Yossi lived for others, caring especially for those who are often ignored. He was selfless and always sensitive to those around him. He did things because it was right and wanting to be of service to G-d and to fulfill his dear Mentor the Rebbe’s calling.
One of his many aspirations that he so deeply desired was to establish a Chabad House. He would often talk dreamily about how one day he wanted to reach out to a community to create a warm and loving place, and as he visited various Chabad centers for Shabbat or events I would hear his ideas develop.
While he was unable to follow that dream personally, I know that it is with his blessings and requests on high that I am privileged to be his hands and feet in the work that we are doing at Chabad of Naples.
Tomorrow, when I hug the Torah that bears his name in the Ark, I know that I am sending Yossi himself the greatest hug possible by embracing the values that were so precious to him; the Torah that he breathed and lived for.
I miss you my beloved brother Yosssi: you are always and forever in our hearts, our minds, and your sweet soul guides our actions.
Wishing you and yours a happy, kosher and freedom-filled rest of Passover!
Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos
