A message from Mike Gerver, a good friend of the Felber family:
We had had our Pesach Seder with the Felbers for 9 of the past 11 years, and we certainly didn’t want this year to be any different. So we had our seder this year, with Joe, Judi, Daniel, Adina, and Netanel, as well as with Netanel’s caregiver Victor, in one of the common areas of the brain injury rehab department of Sheba Hospital at Tel Hashomer. Netanel was in his bed, since it was too late in the evening for him to be in his wheelchair, but he was turned so he could see us.
For the first part of the seder, as we read through the familiar lines of the Haggadah, and sang the familiar tunes, Netanel seemed very wide awake, and attentive to what we were doing. During the singing, he was even moving his mouth, as if he were trying to sing along with us. I wasn’t sure if this interpretation was just wishful thinking on my part—he sometimes moves his mouth at other times—but Judi agreed with me, and said he often looks like he is trying to sing along when he hears singing, and he moves his mouth in a different way than at other times. I had not seen him make any attempt to speak before, but I knew that music, including singing, is controlled by a different part of the brain than speech, on the right side of the brain, analogous to the speech area on the left side of the brain, the injured side, so I had hoped that he might react in a positive way to the singing. In past Seders, Netanel, as the youngest child, had the job of singing “Ma nishtana?” Though, especially when he was younger, he was often bashful about singing it, and we would all join in and sing it together. This year, when Netanel could not do it, Adina was given the job, but she didn’t have much enthusiasm for singing “Ma nishtana?” and we ended up all singing it together, like we have in the past.
The lines describing the Jewish slaves crying out to G-d to free them from their suffering—ונצעק אל-ה' אלוקי אבותינו, וישמע ה' את-קלינו—had an especial emotional resonance this year, much more than in the past. We were all, as we sat there together, crying out to G-d to restore to Netanel the ability to do all the things he cannot do now. To desperately want something that we don’t have made me feel, more than I ever have in the past, as though I were a slave in Mitzrayim, which is what all Jews are supposed to feel when they read the Haggadah. True, we are not slaves anymore, we are free in our own land, but we—some of us—must pay a very high price for that freedom, and that reminds us, more than the strongest horseradish, how bitter it is to be a slave.
And these lines also reflected my feelings: ויוצאנו ה' ממצרים. לא על-ידי מלאך, ולא על-ידי שרף, לא על-ידי שליח. אלא הקדוש ברוך הוא בכבודו ובעצמו. That is what we wished for, for Netanel, the direct intervention of G-d, not something indirect and uncertain, by means of an angel or a messenger. Not that I was hoping for a miracle that would violate the laws of nature—as a physicist, I am very fond of the laws of nature—but a miracle that is consistent with the laws of nature. The Torah is careful to tell us that the main miracle of Passover, the splitting of the Red Sea, was preceded by an East wind blowing all night, and hence this miracle was accomplished by natural means. What made it a miracle was that it came at just the moment that we needed it. All the wonderful work that has been done and continues to be done for Netanel, by his doctors, therapists, caregivers, family and friends are the “East wind” that we hope will, by seemingly natural means, lead to the miracle of his recovering the ability to do as much as possible.
It was harder to relate to “Dayenu.” Every advance that Netanel has made so far in his recovery is not enough for us. But, we are certainly grateful for each of those advances.
In the later part of the seder, Netanel did doze off a little. But he wasn’t the only one at the table who did that. Victor brought him back to his room sometime after 11 pm, shortly after we benched and drank the third cup of wine.
It was wonderful just having a nice, relaxed visit with the Felbers, being able to spend hours talking to them, and not just about Netanel. At the seder, and all day the following day. We haven’t really had the chance to do that since Netanel was injured. Joe and I talked about patents, and about the patent business, as we always do at Shabbat and Yom Tov meals when we are together. Daniel gave me a nice tour of some of the interesting and amusing sculptures on exhibit at Sheba hospital. Debbie and Judi had a long talk when Joe, Daniel and I were at shul Friday night, and on Shabbat afternoon when Joe and I were trying to nap on the couches in the common room.
Adina might be the most important person for Netanel, which is not to ignore what everyone else in the family has done for him. But Adina is wonderful with him, talking to him with humor, even with a dash of sibling rivalry, comforting him, reassuring him, and encouraging him, bringing to bear all of the many years of their relationship as siblings. I’m not sure, but it looked to me like Netanel was making eye contact with Adina sometimes, which is not something I have seen him do with anyone else.
Netanel is not by any means over all of his physical medical problems. His muscle spasms have been worse this past week, and the doctors are trying to figure out why. They have excluded the possibility of an infection, and the possibility of epileptic seizures, which are always a possibility with brain injuries. It might have something to do with side effects of medication he is taking for other things, though he is also taking medication for the muscle spasms. I hope they can figure out what to do about this problem, or that it resolves itself soon.
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