B''H
Hanna Rose's actual name was Joanne Galler Rubin (Yehudit bat Aharon v'Esther V'dorah-Judith daughter of Aaron and Esther-And-Her-Generations). She died on 24 April 2013 peacefully surrounded by friends and family. Below are the notes Rabbi Jonathon Bienenfeld used to deliver her eulogy.
Joanne Rubin – Yehudit bat Aharon
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We pay tribute today to Joanne Rubin, to Yehudit bat Aharon v’Esther
Vedora—wife of Steve Rubin, mother of Isaac and Rachel, daughter of Mr. Aaron
and Mrs. Esther Galler.
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Joanne’s was a life that was cut far too short, finally succumbing to a
protracted battle with cancer. Yet it is a life that one cannot do justice
to—for she accomplished more and touched more souls in her shortened life than
most people possibly could in ten lifetimes.
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And it is difficult to speak of Joanne for another reason—because of
her complexity. If you knew one facet of Joanne’s personality, you’d make
certain assumptions, only to be thrown completely off guard by another facet.
If you knew her from angle A, you’d soon be blown away by angle B.
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Joanne was brilliant. Growing up in Chicago, she attended Northwestern
University, then receiving a masters in musicology from University of Chicago.
She was fluent in numerous languages. I was recently having a conversation
about studying Talmud with Isaac, and she mentioned that she had a wonderful
textbook we could use—the subject matter was ancient Aramaic, the instruction
in modern German. She was a deep thinker and an avid reader—studying both
secular and religious subjects passionately. If you knew Joanne’s brilliance,
you would expect the cynicism that often goes along with it—a philosophy that
all can be studied and all can be explained. And you would be completely taken
aback by the simple, pure faith in G-d that such an intellectually
sophisticated person could possess. Her brilliance made her shrewd and
thoughtful, not cynical, never disbelieving. Her faith was awesome and awe
inspiring. True faith is not the belief that something will happen, but that anything can
happen. True faith realizes the G-d can do anything, that G-d can make
miracles, but that the miracles don’t always unfold the way we might like them
to.. Joanne’s take on miracles is best expressed in her own words, words she
shared as “Hannah Rose,” her blogging pseudonym:
"Oxygen is smooth and comforting. It is the breath of G-d, the elixir of life when the lungs are filled with fluid. Oxygen keeps the body at peace while the siphon drains liters of fluid from the pleura. Then the pleasure of coughing begins. It is important to puff up the lungs so they may work again. There is nothing boring about breathing.
There is nothing boring about any aspect of life. Miracles are multi-dimensional and have nothing to do with that little purple and pink wand with the star and the ribbons and the glitter that sings a song when you tap or whack someone. Miracles assign many responsibilities. It is difficult business to rise to the occasion of this gift."
Such was Joanne’s faith—the recognition not only of
G-d’s ability to perform miracles, but the recognition that those miracles
already surround us. True faith requires a great deal of humility—the humility
that makes you aware how much you’ve already received, and the humility that
makes you realize you don’t have all the answers. To see that recognition in
someone so brilliant, in someone who did have so many answers, is remarkable.
·
It is that humility that, again, makes it difficult to speak about
Joanne. Every line mentioned in praise of her belies the way she lived her
life—in complete humility and modesty. It becomes impossible to speak about
Joanne in this manner without speaking about Steve. Even their very meeting was
an exercise in humility. In an attempt to have his parents' piano moved, Steve
called a woman he knew in the neighborhood who was a certified piano
tuner—Joanne. Joanne put Steve in touch with the company responsible for moving
the Chicago Symphony pianos, and saved him a lot of money. In return, Steve
offered to take Joanne out to lunch. She finally conceded and Steve asked again
and then again. Her mother finally had to explain to her, “he’s asking you for
a date.” Her response? “No he’s not!” Such was Joanne’s humility, as it is
Steve’s. While engaged, they met with a financial planner to discuss their
finances after they would be married. At the end of their meeting he looked
down at the information he had collected and said, “I have never, ever, met a
couple that was so on the same page as one another.”
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It was that humility that stood at the core of Joanne’s ability to give
and give and give. First and foremost, to her own family. Joanne was the core
of her home and family. She served as a
pillar of support both as Steve was getting his practice and career up and
running, and beyond. She understood and related to her family in a way that
only a wife and mother can, and brought the same penetrating insight she had
for all people into her home. Joanne was the caring mother, but not the doting
mother. She wanted to her children to understand their own abilities, to use
them, and to see them mature. The pride with which she spoke of her children
was intensely moving. She was so incredibly proud of the young man that Isaac
has become, proud of his maturity, of his responsibility, of becoming an adult
presence in his home and in his community. She recently told me how her illness
had prevented her from meddling in his life as fully as she would have wanted,
but she said so with a smirk, with the pride of a mother in seeing how
wonderfully her son had developed, even without some of the additional
meddling.
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And she was equally proud of Rachel. It was amazing to hear Joanne
speak about Rachel and see them interact. She did so in a way many would not,
because she had insight into who Rachel was that many did not. Joanne would
quote her daughter often, recognizing the depth of her thoughts and her words
that most would not bother trying to see. Joanne saw Rachel’s special needs,
but also saw beyond them, guided by her love for her daughter.
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Joanne was a loving daughter, as well. She recently remarked to my
wife, “I brought my parents here to take care of them, and here they are taking
care of me.” Her greatest concern was for the health and well-being of her
family.
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And that care and concern spilled over to seemingly anyone else she had
met. There are many people, seemingly on the periphery of Joanne’s life, who
have commented about her, “She is the best person I have ever known.” She
touched everyone because she could connect with everyone. She could be brutally
honest, yet gentle and concerned all at the same time—another enigma of her
complex personality.
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In Parshat Vayeitzei, we read of a a very troublesome episode involving
two of the matriarchs—Rachel and Leah is recorded. To understand the
difficulty, we first must appreciate the back-story.
Jacob arrives at the house of Laban having journeyed from home to find a wife and having already set his eyes on Rachel. Jacob strikes a bargain with Laban, agreeing to work for seven years in exchange for his daughter’s hand in marriage. But Laban had contrived to deceive Jacob. At the wedding, it is Leah, his older daughter, not Rachel, his younger daughter, who is hidden beneath the bride’s veil. Rachel understood what was happening, that it was her sister who would be heading to the chuppah and not herself, yet she remained silent, realizing that her sister would be completely humiliated if this secret was revealed. Rachel saved her sister from embarrassment, by allowing her wed Jacob.
Jacob arrives at the house of Laban having journeyed from home to find a wife and having already set his eyes on Rachel. Jacob strikes a bargain with Laban, agreeing to work for seven years in exchange for his daughter’s hand in marriage. But Laban had contrived to deceive Jacob. At the wedding, it is Leah, his older daughter, not Rachel, his younger daughter, who is hidden beneath the bride’s veil. Rachel understood what was happening, that it was her sister who would be heading to the chuppah and not herself, yet she remained silent, realizing that her sister would be completely humiliated if this secret was revealed. Rachel saved her sister from embarrassment, by allowing her wed Jacob.
Later on in the Torah, an interesting episode is recorded. It is a number of years later, and while Leah has had many children with Jacob, Rachel is still barren. One day, Leah’s oldest son, Reuven comes home with a bouquet of fresh wildflowers he had picked for his mother. Rachel is taken with the flowers and asks Leah if she wouldn’t mind sharing some. Leah explodes, saying, “Is it not enough that you’ve taken my husband, that you now also want the flowers my son has brought!? Rachel is silent, insisting that Leah will should be allowed an additional night with Jacob in exchange for the flowers.
o How can we comprehend Leah’s
words? And how can we comprehend Rachel’s reaction? How could Leah be so
audacious as to accuse Rachel of stealing her husband, when it was only through
Rachel’s kindness and sensitivity that Leah ever married Jacob to begin with?
And how does Rachel hold her tongue? Why doesn’t she set the record straight
and put Leah in her place?
o The answer is that when
Rachel heard these words come out of Leah’s mouth, she understood, “Mission
accomplished.” Rachel had performed her kindness—her chesed—towards Leah with
such humility and such sincerity, that Leah began to believe that she was
worthy of it. Rachel’s chessed—her giving, her generosity—was done with the
spotlight shinig on the other person, not herself. Leah was capable of speaking
about Jacob as her own husband by right because Rachel’s every word and action
echoed that same sentiment—he is yours by right, you have earned it. That is
the chessed in the truest sense, that is the most pure way to give—to give in a
manner that belies your own involvement and allows the other to feel
comfortable and confident in what they have received.
·
This was how Joanne gave to the world. With humility, without the
spotlight shining on her. By connecting to everyone she met in a way that
allowed her to make them aware of their own strength and their own potential.
She made everyone she met into a better person, and into a person worthy of the
blessings they would receive. Joanne had the habit, in Steve’s words, of
“collecting stray people.” Finding lost souls and building them up. And doing so
in the model of Rachel—with the spotlight on the recipient, not the provider.
With the message that “you’re capable,” “you’re worthy,” so that there wasn’t
the shame that would otherwise go along with living in someone else’s home and
being provided for by them.
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It was true of how she wrote a check. There was always a conversation
that accompanied that process, speaking about the wonderful work that the shul,
or organization was doing. So that at every turn, the underlying message was,
“don’t thank me—you’re worthy of it.” Her generosity knew no bounds. It is
completely unusual to find someone who lives so well beneath her means for the
express purpose of being able to give more to others, but that was Joanne. That
was the life’s philosophy that she and Steve mapped out and followed, side by
side.
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It is completely impossible to speak of all the lives that Joanne has
touched, because it would be to speak about anyone she has ever met. Neighbors,
relatives, nurses, attendants, clerks, cashiers, and doctors. Through her deep,
sincere insight she could connect with anyone, and show that person his or her
own beauty.
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A short while ago, Joanne commented to her doctor that she was
concerned she would become addicted to morphine if the dose he gave her was too
high. He replied that he had no concern telling her, “you love life too much.”
How true that was. Joanne was someone who loved life—not for its occasional
thrills or pleasures—but for the meaning and beauty that could be found. She
found beauty in every human soul, found miracle in every breath of oxygen,
infused every interaction with love and concern, expressing deep unwavering
faith in G-d at every bump in the road.
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Joanne, Yehudit, we ask for your forgiveness. For having left so much
that still ought to be said, and for insulting your humility with what has been
said already. Everyone in this room is a better person for having known Joanne
Rubin. T’hay nishmatah tzerurah b’tzror hachaim (Hebrew for "May her soul be bound up in the bond of eternal life").
Thank you so much for posting this. I really wanted to hear it and felt so bad that I couldn't make it to Toledo for the service. It made me cry all over again, but that is healthy. I realized yesterday that Joanne was my only friend who would actually ever call me to talk! Not just the people who might call me for two minutes with university business or if I have had surgery, but really to talk! And we could tell each other anything. She was a blessing.
ReplyDeleteKnowing Joanne was such a gift, that 3 years later, I am still ruminating on it. There is so much I wish I had told her and so much I wish I had asked. But in the olam ha'emeth, I think she knows.
ReplyDelete