November 21, 2021, Hadassah Mount Scopus, Hospice, Jerusalem, Israel
וַיּוֹסִפוּ עוֹד שְׂנֹא אֹתוֹ עַל-חֲלֹמֹתָיו וְעַל-דְּבָרָיו
(בראשית,לז, ח,ט) וַיַּחֲלֹם עוֹד חֲלוֹם אַחֵר וַיְסַפֵּר אֹתוֹ לְאֶחָיו וַיֹּאמֶר הִנֵּה חָלַמְתִּי חֲלוֹם עוֹד וְהִנֵּה הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ וְהַיָּרֵחַ וְאַחַד עָשָׂר כּוֹכָבִים מִשְׁתַּחֲוִים לִי
"...and they hated him yet even more for this dreams, and for his words. And he dreamed yet another dream, and told it to his brothers, and said, 'I have dreamed yet another dream, and behold, the sun and the moon and eleven starts bowed down to me.'" (Genesis/Bereshith, Chapter 37, Verse 8-9)
Wa Ya Ha lom od Halom Aher and he dreamed yet another dream...
Joseph, the dreamer, and he dreamed yet another dream. I am sitting in the hospice beside my dear mother, hoping for a word, hoping for a "I want to drink" and another opportunity to "honor thy mother and thy father", and I am transported back many years. It is in our synagogue, in Savyon, Israel, and my father is speaking to the congregation. He speaks of dreams, the importance of dreaming. I am only 12 years old, and I see him speaking. To dream, to be a Joseph, to be a dreamer.
As a child those were just words, and now the years fly forward and I have experienced life and those words take on a different meaning.
And now I read, that Joseph's brothers resented his dreams, his ambition, his desire to be someone special, and they hated him. But Joseph kept dreaming...and he dreamed yet another dream. We go through life, we have dreams, and those dreams are shattered, we are resented, our dreams come apart at the seams, we are discouraged. ...and he dreamed yet another dream, Wa ya halom od halom aher. When things fall apart, we dream yet another dream.
Wa Ya Ha Lom Od Halom Aher, the tenacious Joseph rose like a phoenix from the ashes and dared to dream again.
The words hit me, they rise up from the pages of the ancient book, and he dreamed yet another dream. He will not be shot down, he will not be discouraged, he will pick up the pieces and dare to dream again. and I see my father, all those years ago, speaking to me from the past and saying, Son, it is never too late to dream, remember Joseph, remember our synagogue of your youth, you were only a little boy but I know that you heard me, let these words ring through the years, let those words ring through your ears and enter your heart, dare to dream again, do not give up hope, do not despair.
I think of my father, now he never gave up.
And I sit by my mother and watch her struggle to say a word, and it is such an effort, and her life is limited to the confines of her hospice bed and I see how quickly life fades. But I read the words, or the words read me, Wa ya ha lom od halom aher, and there is no interpretation but I feel it, there is something mystical in these words, the chant, the intonation, the vibration, to dream again. and Joseph dreamed yet another dream, he was not afraid by failure, he was not discouraged, he knew that greatness was his destiny and he was not afraid to share this openly. To dream. As long as you breath, to dream, to dream yet again...