Mozelle Forman
In life, we like to be prepared. We like to know what’s coming next and what we can look forward to. This psychological disposition is primarily driven by a desire for control and a belief that by anticipating events we can reduce our anxiety. Also, it is a natural human tendency to think about potential outcomes. Doing so allows us to plan and make informed decisions based on predicted future scenarios. Essentially, knowing what the future will bring can provide a sense of security and allows us to make a plan of action in an uncertain world. When the unexpected happens, we become agitated and anxious. We can be momentarily thrown off our game while we contemplate our actions based on the changed circumstances. And when an unexpected, untimely death occurs, the shock, anxiety, and grief throw us into a tailspin.
The community at large, and the Mishaan family in particular, experienced this phenomenon when Zak, a”h, was suddenly taken from this world on Hol Hamoed Sukkot, just the day before his beloved holidays of Hoshana Raba and Simhat Torah. The disbelief, the question of “how could this be?” was a haunting echo for his family, as they struggled to make sense of something that made no sense. Visitors to the family endeavored to offer consolation, even while knowing that words were hollow and the grief was deep. Yet, as Rabbi Eli Mansour stated at the arayat, “You don’t have to have answers when you have friends. The greatest consolation for the mourners is to be there for them, and cry with them, and hold their hand.”
Community Rabbis’ Words of Consolation
Rabbi Meir Yedid described the sense of disorientation Zak’s family and friends endured with his sudden passing. “We ask ourselves, eichah, how could it be?” as we do in Megilat Eichah, pondering the loss of the Beit Hamikdash. “How could it be that Zak is gone?” In an effort to offer consolation and understanding to his family and friends, Rabbi David Ozeri shared the story of Hanoch who died at the young age of 365 years old, when his contemporaries were living between 800 and 900 years. “The Torah tells us, ‘Hanoch walked with Elokim, and then he was no longer there, because Elokim had taken him.’ No explanation, no preparation. One day he was just gone. In the same way, Zak was taken from us.” We cannot comprehend the why’s of Hashem’s world and Rabbi Mansour confirms that “Gd is supposed to be beyond our comprehension. If I understand every move that my Gd makes then I have demoted Him to human intellect.”
Rabbi Azencot likens Zak’s short but powerful life to the life of our matriarch Sarah. When the Torah recounts her life, it is written, “The life of Sarah was 100 years and 20 years and 7 years; the years of Sarah’s life.” Rashi famously tells us that the repetition of “the years of Sarah’s life” indicates that, while they were not many in number, they were equally good. Rabbi Azencot explained that, like Sarah, all of Zak’s years were good. “He lived his life with a sense of urgency, running to catch every mitzvah. His life was full of achievement with concern for everyone and kavod for the Torah with majesty and dignity. He is a role model to all of us of how to live an achieved life.” Focusing on the achievements of his life can bring an acceptance that he fulfilled his mission in this world assuaging our need to ask why? Rabbi Mansour shared the advice he personally heard Rabbi Amar give to a grieving mother: “You have enough pain in your loss. Don’t pain yourself more in trying to figure it out.”
A True Friend
The short and meaningful life that Zak lived, was the epitome of verse 1:6 in Pirkei Avot, “Make for yourself a Rabbi, acquire for yourself a friend, and judge every person to the side of merit.” Zak’s friends and family overwhelmingly cited his love and respect for the Rabbis and described his yearning for and connection to them. He sought out their counsel, supported their causes, and was proud to know the rabbis and be known by them. Rabbis David Ozeri, Meyer Yedid, and David Sutton considered Zak to be a friend and they shared a close relationship with him. They applauded his successes and were awed by his commitment and devotion to tefillah and hesed. Rabbi Ozeri cites Zak’s delight at being able to donate generously, proactively writing a ma’aser check before he had even earned the money and celebrating with a l’haim, not to his earnings, but to his zechut for giving the money to charity.
Zak acquired many friends in his lifetime – you might say he sought out friendship from many and those he sought felt better for having known him. Ikey Mandalawy, a more recent friend, expressed the sheer comedy of his friendship with Zak given their 20-year age difference and lack of commonality. What was most impressive to Ikey was Zak’s conscientious adherence to the third element of our Mishna – judge your fellow favorably. Zak had on the spur of a moment joined Ikey and a group of men on a short trip to Israel. Ikey recounts a conversation he had with Zak on that trip. “Zak came to me and said, ‘When I first met you, I sized you up and made up my mind the kind of guy you are. But that’s not who you are. You are different than I thought you would be and I apologize for thinking that.’ I was surprised. I would have never known what he thought of me if he hadn’t said anything. But even thinking wrong about me upset him and he had to acknowledge it.” Zak’s inner conscience and his desire to achieve maximum growth motivated him to acknowledge his mistake and to deliver an apology even when not necessary.
A Man of Intense Dedication
Zak’s dedication to Torah, tefilla, hesed, and emet, and his profound respect for the Rabbis comes as no surprise to those who knew him well. Zak’s fierce dedication and loyalty, his enthusiastic energy, were all part of his DNA. He adored his parents, was passionately devoted to his wife and children, and held his friends dear. Every tefilla, said with deep fervor and intent was in the zechut of his children. Rabbi Ozeri witnessed his deep concentration during tefilla and believes that Zak “built a real relationship with Hashem through his prayers.” His children attest to the fact that he was their greatest fan and greatest support. He poured his love into them with his
heart and with his time. His mother, Sally Mishaan, described Zak’s singular ability to “make each person feel uniquely valued…and made them feel that you truly understood their struggle.”
We are told that anything we experience or witness in our life has significance from which we can learn and grow. What is the legacy that we inherit from Zak’s passing at the prime of his life? We can learn much by listening to the thoughts and emotions his children expressed at his arayat. Sally, described as her father’s princess, expressed her gratitude for all the shared times she had with her father and his excitement and encouragement of all her endeavors. Jackie began with words of thanks, as did both of his brothers. “My Dad used to say you can never say thank you enough, so I thank the community and give hakarat hatov to Hashem for creating this amazing community.” Jackie believes that clinging to Torah was the most valuable choice Zak ever made for his family and advises, “never take your parents for granted.” Zak’s son Sam witnessed his father invest in making a mark on people. “Dad,” he said at the arayat, “you believed in me, gave me strength, uplifted me, and built my inner confidence.” Richie summed up his father’s legacy of persistently working on himself and passing Torah values to his family. “It is our time to live as he lived – seize each moment of every day, fear Hashem in all of our doings, love unconditionally, and be relentless for our families.”
Zak’s World View
Rabbi Meyer Yedid observed that Zak lived his life with an intuitive understanding that the world we live in is not permanent. “When one recognizes that the world is temporary it gives you power, it gives you strength, it makes you value life, and the opportunities that life gives us…we start to love people, start to ask what are we responsible for, and we become givers.” Zak looked for the opportunities that would bring him closer to Hashem, he focused on the love he felt for his family and friends. He understood his responsibilities to his community and his avodah and sought out any occasion to become a giver. The length of our life does not determine the impact that we can make on the world. Zak is proof of this. The prerequisite for living a full and fulfilled life is the desire to show up and make a difference. And Zak made a difference in the lives of so many. In a loving tribute to his brother, Saul Mishaan expressed what he believed Zak would have liked to say to his friends and family. “Life is short; use your time wisely. Keep your friends close, draw strength from one another, enjoy your family, and always be grateful.”
These are words of wisdom that can help us to live our fullest, most connected life. May Hashem send comfort to his family, friends, and the entire community. And in the merit of trying to emulate Zak’s approach to life, may his neshama have an aliyah. Amen.