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June 2005 Back to Table of Contents Back to Archives Main Page Section: Being Well In Memory of My Brother By Toby Laping, Ph. D., C.S.W., Private Care Manager
In many ways, his profession defined him. He served as rabbi to a large, active and vibrant congregation that followed his lead when he initiated change or challenged the status quo. He was the driving force behind their creation of a house where homeless women can live with their children, and access all of those services which will help them become independent and functioning. He was active in civil rights, in the rights of religious minorities and in interfaith dialogue. He was arrested for protesting repressive regimes, and was challenged by those who resisted major change. He exhorted his congregants and his community to live the religious values they espoused. I knew he was good but I hadn’t realized how much he was loved until his funeral. I was amazed at the overwhelming response of his congregants and the larger community — by their numbers and their tears, and their letters of heartfelt love and respect. He made a difference and he’ll be remembered. But the brother that I miss is a far more personal one. I’ve lost someone I trusted utterly, just as he felt about me. That doesn’t mean we always agreed with each other; surely, we did not. But once we passed out of adolescence so very many decades ago, we grew to respect our differences and accept them. And, we knew when to defer to each other. Matters of religion and ethics were his areas of expertise; matters of health care delivery were mine. Family dynamics and world events were up for grabs since we both feigned expertise. In his final days, he took strength from his area of competence and sadly needed more of my knowledge. There are ways in which we were not alike. Arnold was a perpetual optimist and I wouldn’t describe myself that way. He saw people at their best and at their worst, and yet he always believed that they were inherently good and that it would surface sooner or later. I’m far more pragmatic than he. I’m far more likely to take life as it is and make a judgment based upon what’s in front of me. Anyone with a sibling will understand the unique sense of loss that I feel: in some strange way, he validated my growing up and the person I’ve become. While we might have perceived our childhoods differently, we understood why each of us was the way we were. I suppose that siblings are the only people around who know and remember the foolish things we did as children, the embarrassing behaviors and awkwardness of our teen years and the steps we took into adulthood. They’re the only ones who can tease us about those things with a real base of knowledge, but still let us know that we’re appreciated for the person we’ve become. There are worse losses than that of a sibling and especially one who wasn’t a daily presence. This thought, however, does not diminish my pain. www.wnycaremanager.com back to top back to table of contents Current Issue | About Forever Young | Where to Find | Advertise | Our Advertisers | Community Calendar | Contest | Clubs | Contact Us | Archives | Home |
