My mother, may her memory be blessed, may God rest her soul, was taken from me suddenly, in one terrible moment. She was 53 years old when she passed away.
Of course she didn't make a will.
Who thinks about something like that in the middle of life? But, actually, she did leave me a will.
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Not written. Oral Torah. A will that penetrated me deeply, deeply, from a child's observation of his mother's actions.
My mother had an elderly father, Rabbi Yaakov Tefilinsky, of blessed memory – seventh generation in Jerusalem. In his last years, he could no longer chew, and his children – including my mother – would make porridge for him. Every day it was a different child’s turn.
One year, there was heavy snow in Jerusalem. The roads were blocked. The city was paralyzed. The only way to get around was on foot, and even that was with great difficulty. That day it was Mother's turn to bring the meal, and her brothers and sisters called and offered to bring it in her place that day, since they lived nearby.
But Mom flatly refused! I have the opportunity to honor my father even when it's difficult – and I'm going to give that up?
Even now, I see before my eyes my mother wrapping herself in several layers, using two umbrellas, and making the long journey from Shmuel Hanavi Street to my old neighborhood in Bate Broida on the border of Nachlaot, where my grandfather lived.
This is a will.
This is how you honor your parents!
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Second will: prayer.
Mother prayed a lot. Always. At home, in the neighborhood synagogue, at the Western Wall, and at the graves of the righteous.
She once came to Tiberias and poured out her heart at the grave of the Ramchal. She asked that her sons be blessed with the privilege of learning and being educated from his wonderful book, Mesilat Yesharim.
When she returned home in the evening, her son, my older brother, unexpectedly turned to her and said: "Mom, the Rabbi in Haidar said that tomorrow we need to bring a mesilat from Yesharim." We are starting to study this book.
The light that shone from her face at that moment because her prayer was immediately answered – “While they are still speaking, I will hear” – that light, I will never forget.
The issue of prayer is also directly related to her tragic passing.
Mom was on line 2 because she was returning from praying at the Western Wall. She visited the Wall every day!
But on that bitter day, the 22nd of the month of Av, it was her second time at the Western Wall. Why a second time? Because of me.
The second time she went to pray at the Western Wall in honor of my beginning my studies at a large yeshiva in Jerusalem, an event that, in her opinion, required a special trip to the Western Wall to recite verses of Psalms for my success.
On her way home from the Western Wall, she boarded a bus on line 2. When the bus reached Zwa'hil Square in the heart of the Haredi neighborhood, a suicide bomber exploded on the bus, killing 23 people and injuring 123 others.
I was on a nearby street and heard a terrible explosion. I thought there had been a big accident.
The news reported a bus explosion on another route. I calmed down. I called my mother several times, but she didn't answer. I went to several hospitals and everywhere they said she wasn't there.
When I contacted the municipality hotline, they told me that if she wasn't in any of the hospitals, we should prepare for something bad, but they didn't give details. Later, the family members traveled to Abu Kabir, where they identified her by the color of the clothes she was wearing and a small earring left in her ear.
I lost my mother when she was 53 years old. She left behind a husband, five children, and eleven grandchildren.
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Mom no longer had the privilege of seeing me study in yeshiva. But her fervent prayers did their job.
Thanks to them, I studied, started a home and a family.
In her ascension in the heavenly storm, Mother joined all those saints and pure ones who were killed for the sake of God throughout the long and difficult exile.
Mother also joined the thousands and tens of thousands who were killed here in the Land of Israel in the last generation, as the people of Israel shake off the dust and return to their land and homeland.
May her soul be bound in the bundle of life, and may you revive her with all the dead of your people Israel in mercy – Amen.
