Rebbetzin Chana’s Memoirs: Emotional Suffering

In this 22nd installment of the series, Rebbetzin Chana describes how her husband, Reb Levik‘s condition began to deteriorate just as he was becoming the established leader of the Jewish community in Alma-Ata, Kazakhstan. This took a tremendous toll on his emotional health as well.

Emotional suffering

My husband now started to experience great emotional suffering. Although he was surrounded by many people who related to him with the greatest degree of respect and loving devotion imaginable, he longer had the strength, despite all his efforts, to utilize this properly, and he felt self-conscious because of his physical weakness.

His present situation was most difficult, while his future didn’t hold much hope, either. This was the main tragedy: his hopeless condition in the face of his spiritual inspiration that impelled him to accept his suffering with love of G-d; his feeling that somehow he deserved it all.

It was very different from when we lived in Chi’ili. His presence there had spread by word of mouth, and a large number of Jews would visit him. They included women and girls living on kolkhoz communal colonies some five to eight kilometers away from us. Despite the great heat, they would make their way by foot to seek my husband’s advice, consolation and encouragement.

Hearts broken by their troubles and sufferings, many had been expelled from Bessarabia, Romania, or had fled from other places. When the Soviets entered those lands, they expelled entire families of the so-called “bourgeois.” In the middle of the enforced journey from their homelands, the Red Army had arrested the men folk of the more prominent and wealthy families, separating them from their wives and children whom they allowed to continue traveling.

Many of these women came to our region, and immediately heard about my husband. At first they would come to visit him in pairs, but later they came in groups. The positive effect he had on their spirits is indescribable. They arrived with such broken hearts, but left so encouraged.

Despite the strict censorship, we received postcards with pidyonot and questions, etc.

There is much to write about that period, but it is difficult for me to do so….

Yet our visitors in Chi’ili were only casual acquaintances, temporary residents just passing through. My husband still held out hope for the future, which strengthened his fortitude.

When we came to Alma-Ata, however, my husband became the leader of a community with whom he could set the tone of his interaction. The people, in turn, took care of his needs and eagerly supplied him with everything he required, in the finest possible manner.

Just at that point, however, his illness deteriorated drastically. This crushed him physically, and as much as he tried to rally himself, it took an emotional toll on his spirit. I was the only one who understood this. Others noticed that something was amiss, but were unaware of the cause.

My husband didn’t want anyone to notice he was losing his ability to function properly. I did everything for him on my own. It wasn’t possible to hire a nurse; if I were to ask for help it would need to be one of our visitors, a prospect my husband was very uncomfortable with. Indeed, caring for him would have been a most difficult task even for a stranger, but was particularly so for someone so close.

Writing Torah insights until the last possible moment

Before Shavuot, we moved into a nice, two-room apartment with access to a porch and private garden. It was surrounded by many trees, with plenty of fresh air. The lease was paid in advance for a year and a half.

One of the rooms was nicely furnished, relative to local conditions. There was a writing desk for my husband, and a place for his Torah books, of which he had already accumulated quite a few.

Indeed, he spent most of his time writing, which continued until two weeks before his passing. By then, however, his handwriting had become somewhat unclear. I checked to see whether he had written a last will and testament. But although I didn’t understand the depth of his writings, the terminology appeared similar in style to what he had written in the past.

Before penning his insights, he would smoke a cigarette (although they were very difficult to obtain, he was supplied by our friends with an unlimited supply of the choicest cigarettes). He would then become deep in thought, after which he immediately started to write.

Later I left all his writings with friends in Moscow. I hope they weren’t subsequently burned.

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