A Goodbye to Levi Deitsch

By Rabbi Yossi Lew

Yesterday was Levi Deitsch’s first Yahrtzeit. Shortly after his Shivah, I wrote the following. For this Yahrtzeit, I share this with you.

When one Yid meets a friend after being separated for a while, they both shake hands and say “Sholom Aleichem.” This is a common practice by all Jews from time immemorial.

Chassidim, though, do something more: They kiss each other on the face.

Where this practice originated is not clear. I sometimes wonder if this is how they did things during the Alter Rebbe’s times. Was this perhaps done even before then? Did a few people decide on this one day, or was it the practice of a single individual?

It does not matter. Wherever and whatever, this practice has stuck.

Chassidim are known for their intense love – to Hashem, to their Rebbe and to each other. But not all Chassidim kiss each other every time they see one other. The practice is normally when friends meet friends for the first time in a while, not between random Chassidim all the time.

The truth is, it is a beautiful thing to see. When two people meet and they feel that close even to share a kiss, it is heartwarming, inspiring and it lifts the heart.

The above came to mind when, a few months ago, I received a phone call from a dear friend, a Shliach in Maryland. He explained that the Shluchim in that region gather together once a month or so, in order to Farbreng. The Farbrengen those days was in order to expedite a Refuah Shleimah for our friend, Levi Deitsch, Olov Hasholom. It was explained to me that, for whatever reason, Levi had asked to have me as the guest speaker.

Levi was a camper in Gan Yisroel 5746. I was one of the head counsellors that year. As a 10 year-old, Levi was loud and could have sometimes misbehaved. This conduct was, ostensibly, his larger than life energy, coupled with his intense feelings towards others – the person Levi Deitsch eventually became. It was also his love to laugh. All of this was the infectious behavior which endeared him to thousands of people, including commoners to which no one paid attention other than Levi.

But back then, some 25 years ago, Levi had not quite grown into the person he would become. I distinctly remember that not all of his energy was being channeled into the right direction. As one of the two head counselors, Levi’s behavior needed to be dealt with by me personally, more than once.

When the call from Maryland came with the information that Levi had asked for me to be the speaker, it jolted all those memories from the recesses of my mind. We had, of course, come along way since the summer of twenty-five years ago. Still, it wasn’t like we had this close relationship ever since then.

A day before I was to fly to Virgina to spend the night engaged in a Farbrengen with the Shluchim, my dear friend, Rabbi Eliyahu Schusterman, a fellow Shliach in Atlanta, called me. As Levi’s cousin, he wanted to brief me on certain things.

“Listen,” Eliyahu said, “I don’t know what you know about Levi, but let me tell you this: He has lost all that weight you may remember him with. He may therefore look a little haggard to you. Also, he may be wearing a mask, to protect him from disease. Even if not, in case you may be inclined, as a Chossid to his brother, to kiss him, please DO NOT KISS THAT MAN! He is extremely susceptible to infection!

Was I going to kiss Levi? I was not sure what I was supposed to do or not. I certainly was not going to be a cause of further suffering to him, heaven forbid. I was hoping, though, to express my affection and respect to him, usually communicated with a friendly kiss upon seeing a friend.

Levi, as it turned out, was extremely alert and on top of things, despite his physical struggles. I was told that the Farbrengen would end when the crowd had left, which would be around midnight. Levi would, most probably, retire sooner. The Farbrengen lasted until 2:30 a.m., and Levi did not miss a minute of it.

This was almost six months, to the day, before Levi was to be laid to his final rest.

And then it was time for me to leave. I would be heading straight to the airport from Levi’s house for my 6:00 o’clock flight.

As I stood up to say goodbye, Levi came over to me with a smile on his face. He extended his hand to me and thanked me for coming and for the effort. And then he leaned over towards me and, like friendly Chassidim, we kissed each other.

Perhaps Levi knew that this would be the last time we would see each other. I would like to think, though, that Levi sensed that this was a necessary time not just to shake hands, but to also express love the way Chassidim do.

For this was the real Levi: a keen sense of feeling and knowing what is going on in the other person’s mind.

When word came through of Levi’s passing, I could not help thinking back to that moment of farewell we spent.

And I could not help imagining how Levi met his father, his brother and his other loved ones somewhere up there in Gan Eden. And how much kissing went on then.

Goodbye, my friend Levi. I look forward to the time – which I know will be real soon now that you are in Shomayim – when you will return. And then, after kissing your dear children and your beloved loved ones, there will be a long line of friends to greet you with Sholom Aleichem.

And as Chassidim who love you, we will all express that love with a kiss.

Farewell, my brother.

The following are photos from an event was held Thursday evening in memory of Levi Deitsch, marking his first yahrtzeit at the Beis Medrash in Crown Heights: