Thursday, March 12, 2009
An Interview With Myself
The Rebbe Appears to a Cancer Patient
Tuviah Sussman had his worst nightmare come true – a diagnosis of head and neck cancer. Within weeks he was in a hospital – the New York Eye and Ear Infirmary -- waiting for his surgery to begin.
What he next remembers after laying on the operating table is opening his eyes in the recovery room and being grateful to G-D for making it through the surgery. He was even more grateful when his doctor told him that all had gone well and that things looked good for him.
In the days that followed, however, the 60-year-old retired publicist wondered what “things looked good” meant when he found himself laying in bed in Beth Israel Hospital for post-surgical care unable to sleep because of painful and constant coughing.
Tuviah emphasizes that at the time he was not a very observant Jew. “I celebrated the holidays, tried to keep kosher the best I could and when I went to synagogue services it was at a reformed temple in Greenwich Village. They had a very lax attitude toward all the rules and regulations that more Orthodox Jews must follow.”
If back then you had asked Tuviah, who is married and lives on the city’s Lower East Side, a neighborhood that was once the heartland for the Jewish population who immigrated to America at the Turn-of-the-Century, about the Lubavitcher movement and its famed spiritual leader, Rabbi Menachem Schneerson, he would not have had much to talk about.
Certainly he was aware of Rabbi Schneerson, and he also knew that The Rabbi was a very holy man whose followers claimed worked miracles. Some of them even believed he was the Messiah. That was about it.
But that would soon change in a series of remarkable events that took place in his hospital room two nights in a row. It was then that, for no apparent reason, the Rebbe miraculously came into his life in the form of two dreams which would change Tuviah’s life forever.
* * *
This morning Tuviah is seated in his one-bedroom apartment on East Third Street. The sun is streaming into the neatly furnished apartment, illuminating plants that are in abundance everywhere.
The medium height, baldish, cancer survivor is sipping on a cup of green tea as he speaks about that trying time in his life.
“I was in the hospital room in some pain despite the pain killers. But even worse was the coughing – I just couldn’t stop and I couldn’t sleep as a result of it,” he recalls. “It was after midnight and I dozed off a bit between coughing fits. That’s when I had a dream – it was the first of two which I will never forget.
“In the dream, there was a group of Hasidic men all dressed in black garb and standing before my bed. One of them looked exactly like the pictures of Rabbi Schneerson I had seen in the newspapers.”
Tuviah recalls that The Rebbe stepped forward from the group and spoke to him. “He looked at me and then said I could ‘borrow a body’ for the night so that I would be comfortable and be able to sleep.
“I remember being a bit confused. I really didn’t know what he meant. But then for some reason I got the impression that The Rebbe was actually making loan of his body to me.
“It was an incredible notion, but I tried it on – actually, it was more like I slipped into it. I remember that it was such a peaceful body and once in it I didn’t cough or feel any pain. So I accepted it.”
Tuviah clearly recalls that even in his dream it seemed strange to him to be using somebody else’ body in order to sleep. “And then the dream vanished. I awoke about five in the morning not having coughed once during the night and feeling completely refreshed. I clearly remembered that dream – I couldn’t talk because of the surgery so I wrote down notes – and I was absolutely amazed.”
Tuviah takes another sip of his tea and stares out the window where an old oak tree is gently swaying in the wind. Then he continues: “I distinctly remembered all the details of that dream, and the more I thought about it the more I became certain that this was a miraculous gift from G-D who had sent the Rebbe to help me sleep.
Still, there was a skeptical side to Tuviah and other thoughts regarding this experience began to slip into his mind – such as this whole thing was some kind of coincidence or subconscious connection with a famed rabbi he had heard and read about.
What changed his mind once and for all was that the following night he experienced a similar dream.
“Once again I couldn’t sleep,” Tuviah recollects. “The surgery on my neck kept me coughing and awake. I would doze off for a few minutes and then the coughing would wake me up.”
He isn’t exactly sure what time it was when he dozed off a bit, but then came that second dream involving The Rebbe. Tuviah pauses for a moment to refill his tea cup before continuing. For a moment, the silent room is filled only by the pleasant chirping of birds outside the window.
“I remember that there were five silent Hasidic men standing before my hospital bed,” he begins. “I sensed they were ‘helpers’ of some kind – that’s the word that came to mind; that they were keeping watch over me as if I was some kind of important person they were holding a vigil for.
“I was curious as to why they were there. I wasn’t anyone special. I wasn’t an Orthodox Jew. I wasn’t anyone other than a retired writer. Why did I deserve such attention? Then some silent voice in my head spoke to me and said that these “helpers” would be with me throughout the night.”
Then he says a remarkable thought entered his mind: “Suddenly, and I don’t know why, I understood why they were here. I was an incarnation of Rabbi Schneerson. He was – I don’t really know how to explain it – coming through me, in me. But yet at the same time I knew that I was in my own body. I was both me and him. It’s kind of hard to describe but I was two people at the same time.”
Tuviah ponders his remarkable tale.
“I don’t know why,” he continues, “But I had this overriding impression that I was Rebbe Schneerson’s incarnation. But I felt confused by the whole thing. After all, who was I that The Rebbe now was part of me?”
There was yet another puzzling aspect of this second dream,” Tuviah says. “I just know that these five Hasids were standing here and waiting for me to “expel” something from my body so that they could offer it to their religious community. I didn’t know exactly what they were waiting for me to “expel,” but I just know that it was important.”
Now, suddenly, the dreamscape shifted. “I no longer felt that I was in my hospital room,” he recollects. “And yet even in my dream I remember asking myself where else could I be? Still, I felt like I was in some kind of void and then somewhere ahead I saw a candle glowing.
“I looked at the candle and, again, I felt that I was supposed to cough something up – expel it from my body. Both Rabbi Schneerson, who I was now part of, and my own self was supposed to rid myself of something. I just knew it was supposed to be some kind of important sign to these Hasids who were gathered before me. But what? I’m still not exactly sure even to this day.
Or maybe I am. Maybe I was supposed to get rid of my old lax religious way of life and become more of a traditional Jew? I don’t know, but I do know that this certainly has taken place in my life.
“Then I watched as the Hasids moved closer to me. I noticed that they were all young men. I remember thinking, ‘Are they so concerned about me because I’m The Rebbe?’ I also remember in my dream asking at that moment: ‘Who am I? Where am I? Is this still the hospital room?”
Tuviah pauses for a moment as he relives those strange moments in his mind. “It was all so weird to think that I was two people – The Rebbe and me. But all I know is that again I slept like a baby for the rest of the night with no coughing and no pain. I woke up rested the next morning when the doctors were making their rounds.”
* * *
Today, Tuviah remains convinced that through some miracle The Rebbe came from the spirit world to visit him in his dreams and to help him through his physical ordeal. He has also become more and more convinced that the message to him was to become a more religious person which he has become.
“I go to synagogue regularly to pray and I put on tefillin (phylacteries) each morning. I’ve also tried to be less judgmental and rigid in my attitudes toward other people – I’m practicing more love in my heart – trying to increase my spiritual side.
“I also try to express my gratitude and love to G-D in any way I can such as by volunteering in a hospital and working with the Jewish deaf – things that I never would have thought about or have done before this experience.”
Tuviah takes a final sip of tea and smiles. “All I know is that God sent The Rebbe to me when I most needed him. And I know in my heart that if I ever face great danger, again, that he will be there for me…”
Tuviah Sussman had his worst nightmare come true – a diagnosis of head and neck cancer. Within weeks he was in a hospital – the New York Eye and Ear Infirmary -- waiting for his surgery to begin.
What he next remembers after laying on the operating table is opening his eyes in the recovery room and being grateful to G-D for making it through the surgery. He was even more grateful when his doctor told him that all had gone well and that things looked good for him.
In the days that followed, however, the 60-year-old retired publicist wondered what “things looked good” meant when he found himself laying in bed in Beth Israel Hospital for post-surgical care unable to sleep because of painful and constant coughing.
Tuviah emphasizes that at the time he was not a very observant Jew. “I celebrated the holidays, tried to keep kosher the best I could and when I went to synagogue services it was at a reformed temple in Greenwich Village. They had a very lax attitude toward all the rules and regulations that more Orthodox Jews must follow.”
If back then you had asked Tuviah, who is married and lives on the city’s Lower East Side, a neighborhood that was once the heartland for the Jewish population who immigrated to America at the Turn-of-the-Century, about the Lubavitcher movement and its famed spiritual leader, Rabbi Menachem Schneerson, he would not have had much to talk about.
Certainly he was aware of Rabbi Schneerson, and he also knew that The Rabbi was a very holy man whose followers claimed worked miracles. Some of them even believed he was the Messiah. That was about it.
But that would soon change in a series of remarkable events that took place in his hospital room two nights in a row. It was then that, for no apparent reason, the Rebbe miraculously came into his life in the form of two dreams which would change Tuviah’s life forever.
* * *
This morning Tuviah is seated in his one-bedroom apartment on East Third Street. The sun is streaming into the neatly furnished apartment, illuminating plants that are in abundance everywhere.
The medium height, baldish, cancer survivor is sipping on a cup of green tea as he speaks about that trying time in his life.
“I was in the hospital room in some pain despite the pain killers. But even worse was the coughing – I just couldn’t stop and I couldn’t sleep as a result of it,” he recalls. “It was after midnight and I dozed off a bit between coughing fits. That’s when I had a dream – it was the first of two which I will never forget.
“In the dream, there was a group of Hasidic men all dressed in black garb and standing before my bed. One of them looked exactly like the pictures of Rabbi Schneerson I had seen in the newspapers.”
Tuviah recalls that The Rebbe stepped forward from the group and spoke to him. “He looked at me and then said I could ‘borrow a body’ for the night so that I would be comfortable and be able to sleep.
“I remember being a bit confused. I really didn’t know what he meant. But then for some reason I got the impression that The Rebbe was actually making loan of his body to me.
“It was an incredible notion, but I tried it on – actually, it was more like I slipped into it. I remember that it was such a peaceful body and once in it I didn’t cough or feel any pain. So I accepted it.”
Tuviah clearly recalls that even in his dream it seemed strange to him to be using somebody else’ body in order to sleep. “And then the dream vanished. I awoke about five in the morning not having coughed once during the night and feeling completely refreshed. I clearly remembered that dream – I couldn’t talk because of the surgery so I wrote down notes – and I was absolutely amazed.”
Tuviah takes another sip of his tea and stares out the window where an old oak tree is gently swaying in the wind. Then he continues: “I distinctly remembered all the details of that dream, and the more I thought about it the more I became certain that this was a miraculous gift from G-D who had sent the Rebbe to help me sleep.
Still, there was a skeptical side to Tuviah and other thoughts regarding this experience began to slip into his mind – such as this whole thing was some kind of coincidence or subconscious connection with a famed rabbi he had heard and read about.
What changed his mind once and for all was that the following night he experienced a similar dream.
“Once again I couldn’t sleep,” Tuviah recollects. “The surgery on my neck kept me coughing and awake. I would doze off for a few minutes and then the coughing would wake me up.”
He isn’t exactly sure what time it was when he dozed off a bit, but then came that second dream involving The Rebbe. Tuviah pauses for a moment to refill his tea cup before continuing. For a moment, the silent room is filled only by the pleasant chirping of birds outside the window.
“I remember that there were five silent Hasidic men standing before my hospital bed,” he begins. “I sensed they were ‘helpers’ of some kind – that’s the word that came to mind; that they were keeping watch over me as if I was some kind of important person they were holding a vigil for.
“I was curious as to why they were there. I wasn’t anyone special. I wasn’t an Orthodox Jew. I wasn’t anyone other than a retired writer. Why did I deserve such attention? Then some silent voice in my head spoke to me and said that these “helpers” would be with me throughout the night.”
Then he says a remarkable thought entered his mind: “Suddenly, and I don’t know why, I understood why they were here. I was an incarnation of Rabbi Schneerson. He was – I don’t really know how to explain it – coming through me, in me. But yet at the same time I knew that I was in my own body. I was both me and him. It’s kind of hard to describe but I was two people at the same time.”
Tuviah ponders his remarkable tale.
“I don’t know why,” he continues, “But I had this overriding impression that I was Rebbe Schneerson’s incarnation. But I felt confused by the whole thing. After all, who was I that The Rebbe now was part of me?”
There was yet another puzzling aspect of this second dream,” Tuviah says. “I just know that these five Hasids were standing here and waiting for me to “expel” something from my body so that they could offer it to their religious community. I didn’t know exactly what they were waiting for me to “expel,” but I just know that it was important.”
Now, suddenly, the dreamscape shifted. “I no longer felt that I was in my hospital room,” he recollects. “And yet even in my dream I remember asking myself where else could I be? Still, I felt like I was in some kind of void and then somewhere ahead I saw a candle glowing.
“I looked at the candle and, again, I felt that I was supposed to cough something up – expel it from my body. Both Rabbi Schneerson, who I was now part of, and my own self was supposed to rid myself of something. I just knew it was supposed to be some kind of important sign to these Hasids who were gathered before me. But what? I’m still not exactly sure even to this day.
Or maybe I am. Maybe I was supposed to get rid of my old lax religious way of life and become more of a traditional Jew? I don’t know, but I do know that this certainly has taken place in my life.
“Then I watched as the Hasids moved closer to me. I noticed that they were all young men. I remember thinking, ‘Are they so concerned about me because I’m The Rebbe?’ I also remember in my dream asking at that moment: ‘Who am I? Where am I? Is this still the hospital room?”
Tuviah pauses for a moment as he relives those strange moments in his mind. “It was all so weird to think that I was two people – The Rebbe and me. But all I know is that again I slept like a baby for the rest of the night with no coughing and no pain. I woke up rested the next morning when the doctors were making their rounds.”
* * *
Today, Tuviah remains convinced that through some miracle The Rebbe came from the spirit world to visit him in his dreams and to help him through his physical ordeal. He has also become more and more convinced that the message to him was to become a more religious person which he has become.
“I go to synagogue regularly to pray and I put on tefillin (phylacteries) each morning. I’ve also tried to be less judgmental and rigid in my attitudes toward other people – I’m practicing more love in my heart – trying to increase my spiritual side.
“I also try to express my gratitude and love to G-D in any way I can such as by volunteering in a hospital and working with the Jewish deaf – things that I never would have thought about or have done before this experience.”
Tuviah takes a final sip of tea and smiles. “All I know is that God sent The Rebbe to me when I most needed him. And I know in my heart that if I ever face great danger, again, that he will be there for me…”
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