Contact Us

A Lingering Love Story

A Lingering Love Story


This is, perhaps, more closely a love story than an essay: a love that began 43 years ago and appears to have increased, as the best love does, with time. It’s also the type of true love story that doesn’t run from tragedy. Perhaps the truest love is, in fact, strengthened by it.

One of the protagonists of this story is a 69-year-old woman; let’s call her Rachel (I am also proud to call her my friend). Its setting for the last two years is aNearly eight years ago, Rachel began to lose her balance nursing facility that Rachel has had to call home. Nearly eight years ago, when Rachel began to lose her balance, she was diagnosed with atypical Parkinson’s disease, which is characterized by additional degeneration of cells in parts of the nervous system, and for which there currently is no cure. The disease has robbed this once highly independent woman of her ability to ambulate, speak and even eat. Yet throughout it all, Rachel, a retired Hebrew teacher, has maintained her dignity. For the decade I have known her, she has never complained. She has remained kind and supportive, and determined to get well.

The other protagonist of this story is Rachel’s 72-year-old husband, Shmuel. Soon after my friend was diagnosed, Shmuel invited a few couples out to dinner to cheer up his wife. Other than a faraway, unfocused look in my friend’s eyes, all seemed fine. That is, until she stood up. Before I could register that she had begun to swerve, Shmuel was by her side supporting her until she regained her balance.

He hasn’t strayed far from her side ever since. A retired elementary-school music teacher, he succeeded in keeping Rachel at home for the first six years of her illness, hiring full-time aides for stimulation and to keep her company, and putting together the best team he could: a cornucopia of specialists, therapists and alternative modality practitioners to improve Rachel’s quality of life. While she could, Rachel kept up with the program, including using a stationary bicycle daily. Two years ago, when she lost her ability to swallow and required a feeding tube, Shmuel felt overwhelmed and frightened, and reluctantly placed her in a nursing home. But he visits every day and is never quick to leave.

“I miss her too much,” he says, and by the look in his eyes, anyone would know that he means it. Usually, he brings his recorder, so he can play the Israeli tunes he taught himself; they’re the traditional songs that his wife grew up listening to in Israel and the United States, and still loves. As Rachel sits in her wheelchair, Shmuel often takes her hands gently in his, plays an Israeli CD, and sways back and forth with her hands in a dance. If I’m fortunate enough to arrive while he’s still there, he beckons to me with the words: “Come see my beautiful wife.” I always make it a point to ask him how he is doing, too. Although my friend is suffering, so is her husband. “As long as I’m with Rachel, it’s a good day,” he answers.

I’ve had illnesses, but I have no idea what it’s like to be fully encased in a body that betraysRegardless of how she’s feeling, she continues to fight each day you. Sometimes, I look in Rachel’s eyes and see there—or so I think—the desire to simply give in. After all these years of struggling, to simply surrender. But I think this story is also Rachel’s love story. A love for her husband, who keeps her going just one more day because a day with Rachel “makes the day worth living.” It’s a love story to her adult children, who call daily, sometimes singing Israeli songs that Rachel loves most, or just speaking to her with deep respect and tenderness. As I write this, her son is in Israel seeking medical specialists involved with his mother’s rare form of Parkinson’s—something that may be able to stave off further deterioration. Like their father, her children have never given up hope.

Perhaps, most of all, this is a love story to G‑d, a spoken belief that He may create a miracle, and that Rachel may have a complete recovery and that her body will heal. But if not, she still retains a firm belief in G‑d’s closeness. (She loves being read the weekly Torah portion). Just like G‑d stayed with the Jewish people who were exiled after the Romans destroyed the Second Temple, Rachel, within her broken body, believes that G‑d is with her. That He’s with her in her hope. That He’s with her in her despair. And yes, that He’s even with her in her anger.

Regardless of how she’s feeling, she continues to fight each day. She still maintains the dignity to wave “hello” and “goodbye”—one of the small movements she still possesses—and to provide as much of a smile as her wayward muscles will allow. When those she loves are about to leave, she squeezes their hands, as much to communicate her love as to ask for its continuance. To help her hold on. Perhaps like the Jewish people itself, despite her broken body, my friend Rachel remains whole.

Nancy K.S. Hochman is a freelance journalist and essayist, a creative writing teacher and an admission essay writing coach. Her work has appeared in The New York Times, Newsday, Child, Seventeen Magazine, Hadassah Magazine, B’Nai B’rith Jewish Monthly, Na’amat Woman and many other publications.
Sefira Ross is a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with's copyright policy.
Join the Discussion
Sort By:
1000 characters remaining
Helen Dudden United Kingdom December 7, 2017

I think it's taught me a valuable lesson. I too am disabled. My disabilities restrict in some ways.
What a beautiful lesson to learn, anyone who loves truely, will never see the disability as a reason not to love.
My sincere wishes to the family. Reply

Dalia PHX AZ December 5, 2017

Refua shleima to Mrs Rachel and her family Reply

Eric Sander Kingston North Hollywood December 4, 2017

The Love Between You This story reminds me of the tribute I wrote for my parents & all they went through together.

The Love Between You

For My Parents
William & Arlene Gail Kingston

One day two soul-mates who had spent a whole lifetime together
Were going over the events of their lives
As they looked over their many struggles and hardships
They noticed that during their worst moments
It seemed that it was only each other that pulled the other through
That it was only their togetherness and faith
That held their lives together

One day, the L-rd appeared before them
And they asked:
“L-rd, during our worst trials and tribulations
It seems it was only our togetherness
The held our lives together
It was only our togetherness
That kept our faith alive
Where in all this was the Presence of G-d?”

The L-rd replied:
“My precious children
My beautiful creations
Was the love between you”

by Eric Sander Kingston
Schayel Reply

Anonymous new york December 3, 2017

wow wow wow!!!! So beautiful to read such a powerful reminder of what true love is! Reply

LBD CT November 12, 2017

"I always make it a point to ask him how he is doing, too. Although my friend is suffering, so is her husband." Those 2 sentences stood out for me. So often we forget that when there is illness, it is the whole family that suffers. Remembering the caregiver is an often overlooked kindness. Reply

Anonymous Long Beach November 21, 2017

Thank you for your lovely comment! Reply

Sophia Forest Hills, NY November 17, 2017

Such a powerful story about love and belief in G-d!!! A must read!!! Reply

Related Topics