His Neshamah Should Have An Aliyah
This is one of those experiences that I have to write about. And the realness of what I wish to write will - I think - come across the most strongly, in direct proportion to how soon I share this. One never knows what will happen, so you need to say and do what matters to you now, that's one of the lessons I've been absorbing since this morning.
Today I attended a memorial for Dr. Brian Grobois. He passed away tragically about a month and a half ago while hiking on the slopes of Mount Rainier. His daughter was in my Chumash class, as an eleventh grader, two years ago. I wrote her a recommendation for Israel, which was easy to do because I think very highly of her. Being at this service was one of the most powerful, moving, experiences of my life. It's an incredible thing - as a dear colleague of mine pointed out - when someone vibrant is suddenly gone before you got to know them; and yet other people can so vividly recall the person that you get the amazing picture.
The rabbi of Brian's shul, the Young Israel of New Rochelle, spoke first. He said that the words that came to mind for Brian were, among others, "sweetness, brilliance, friendliness, connection to all..." Rabbi Fink said that Brian was an empath. This is an uncommon way to describe someone, and yet as over twenty people spoke during the two hour program it would become clear that Brian was an empath, one who compassionately sensed the deep feelings of others.
Brian's wife spoke next, and was - rightfully - the first one to mention his "wonderful hug." She said that her mother had told her to "marry someone that you're proud to walk into the room with." That was how she felt about her husband. Wow. Her mother's advice, and the fact that she followed it have been resounding inside me all day.
Brian's son spoke about his dad's ubiquitous passion, and signed off his little talk with the heartfelt words, "I love you buddy." His older daughter (my student) said that her father was the happiest man in any room he was in. She recalled that she said aloud one day - not long ago - that she wanted to be like him. Serendipitously, without her knowing, that was the day he died. Brian's youngest daughter said that since her father passed away people have been asking, "Is there anything I can do for you?" Today, she thought of something that people can do for her, "Tell the people you love that you love them. I wish I did." I hope she knows that he heard her saying it before she said it. He was an empath.
There were many speakers, each wanting to share his or her truth. Someone said that Brian was like that elephant that the blind men encountered and each thought it was something else based on the part that touched them. So it was with Brian; and like the elephant, he was all of those things, all together.
Someone shared this poem of Bialik. Rabbi Simcha Weintraub shared his heartfelt conviction that Brian "knew that it was through relationships that healing happened." He said that Dr. Grobois, a psychiatrist, believed, like the Rambam, in treating the whole person. A dear friend cited Rabbi Yosef Ibn Zabara's resonant, relevant thought that "friendship is one heart beating in two bodies." The same gentleman noted how blessed Brian's children were to know Brian the grown up and Brian the kid.
Chaim Sober knew Brian, his dear friend, through the shul and Tai Chi. He said that Brian "gathered all the children of G-d together." About two years ago Professor Sober suffered several serious losses of loved ones (including that of Rabbi Pesach Oratz, whom Sober aptly called "the great ilui of the Lower East Side"). For the first time in his life he started experiencing panic attacks. Brian taught him how to get through the attacks at that time. Brian told him that the skills he gave him would help Sober deal with his next major shock. "That shock was from him."
Someone said, I think accurately, that today spirituality is safe and in, but "Brian gave religion a good name." Dr. Grobois, was of the belief that religion was true, and that life without it was inconceivable. When something perplexing took place and Brian was asked to explain it he said, "G-d speaks to me on a need to know basis." Some years ago he decided he wanted to be buried in Israel. When asked why, he replied, quite seriously, "When the Messiah comes, I want a front seat."
A colleague, who is a member of the American Psycho-Analytic Institute cited the institute's credo and applied it to Brian: "The glory of G-d is the human being fully alive." Another speaker said, and this was probably a unanimous feeling, that Brian was the friend they'd call if they were on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, because he seemed to know the answer to everything. Grobois listened to people and reacted to what he heard. When a friend told him he was into a certain style of music he sampled 100 CDs of that genre (African) and then gifted his friend with the six that he found to be the best of the lot.
People used many adjectives, such as - confident, attentive, honorable, responsible, and loyal. Someone noted that the words used about Brian were all about his humanity, about what is inside. One speaker said that Dr. Groibois "was a gavrah, over a cheftzah." Spinoza's words were evoked, as they seemed pertinent, "All things excellent are as difficult as they are rare."
One cousin said that, as a child, she learned how to laugh and smile from Brian. Another cousin said that Brian did whatever he did because he meant it; he embodied integrity. Someone who was close to Brian and his wife, who had never visited their house, made a shivah visit and was touched by his wife's statement that "Brian would have loved to see you in our home." A colleague said that he hated to say it but he believed that "Most of us are replaceable; Brian is not."
One speaker recalled that when he lost his own brother is a sudden and surprising way his brother left behind many open wounds. This man said that no-one ever went to sleep wondering if Brian was angry at them. Brian's loved ones, this man feels, were blessed to know, in the best and most positive way possible where Brian stood in relation to them.
The family friend, who did a masterful job of introducing the speakers and holding the morning together, quoted one powerful word uttered to her by Brian. At Thanksgiving time she helped him with some charity meal distribution in the community. She commented that there was so much to be thankful for that there was a need to give back.
And Brian said, "Amen."

7 Comments:
Thank you for sharing your thoughts, RN. To lose someone so young, so full of life (mountain-climbing--is there a better metaphor for our life's work, always seeking higher ground?!) and so suddenly is very painful. I know from experience. Happy memories bring some comfort, but the hole in your heart takes a long time to get smaller. He sounds like an extraordinary man; how blessed his family and friends were!
I'm sorry that you've experienced this kind of painful loss first hand. You're right, the metaphor seems to have fit the man and the way that he lived his life. They mentioned that he always stood through all of Yom Kippur davening. He was very spiritual and energetic - always climbing up.
On Sunday the song of the day includes the question, "Who will climb onto the mountain of G-d? And who will stand in his holy place?" Comes to mind...
Thank you for posting this. I had the great good fortune to be a patient of Dr. Grobois for several years. As someone mentioned at the memorial, he was far more than just a doctor -- he was a human being first and foremost, and that came through in every single session. A simple conversation with him could yield insight, meaning, transcendence ... working with him was one of the central experiences of my life. His soul was incandescent, and his light lives on in all who knew him.
Wow. I am blown away by your comment. It fits with everything that I learned about him yesterday. And yet, you add much more. You are the first person I have heard speak of him from the point of view of a patient, first person.
To be a human being first and foremost sounds so run of the mill and obvious. Yet, it is truly high praise - perhaps sadly - when one, today, says of another person that he or she is a human being first and foremost.
Your articulate and clearly heartfelt words have moved me. Every word of what you say is powerful:
"He was a human being first and foremost, and that came through in every single session. A simple conversation with him could yield insight, meaning, transcendence ... working with him was one of the central experiences of my life. His soul was incandescent, and his light lives on in all who knew him."
Wow.
Very moving. I find it painful to read things like this.
Hopefully the pain comes with a point, brings chizuk.
Not chizuk so much as perhaps a bit of a spur to be better. But even that is unfortunately fleeting.
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