And it turns out, even Biblical heroes felt it too. Take Joseph, for example. You know, the guy with the coat of many colors? His story, as told in the Torah, is already pretty dramatic. But the Legends of the Jews, that amazing compilation of rabbinic stories by Louis Ginzberg, really brings his emotions to life.
Imagine this: Joseph, betrayed by his brothers, sold into slavery in Egypt. He's been dragged far from home, his life completely upended. The Legends pick up the story as the caravan carrying him reaches Ephrath, the place where his mother, Rachel, is buried. Grief just overwhelms him.
He runs to her gravesite and collapses, pouring out his heart. It's raw, it's desperate, and you can almost hear him sobbing. He cries, "O mother, mother, that didst bear me, arise, come forth and see how thy son hath been sold into slavery, with none to take pity upon him."
Can you feel his pain? He's not just sad; he's utterly alone. He continues, "Arise, see thy son, and weep with me over my misfortune, and observe the heartlessness of my brethren. Awake, O mother, rouse thyself from thy sleep, rise up and prepare for the conflict with my brethren, who stripped me even of my shirt, and sold me as a slave to merchantmen, who in turn sold me to others, and without mercy they tore me away from my father."
He begs her to wake up, to fight for him. He wants her to witness the injustice, the sheer cruelty of his brothers. He wants her to feel his pain, the pain of being ripped away from everything he knows and loves.
And then comes the plea for justice. "Arise, accuse my brethren before God, and see whom He will justify in the judgment, and whom He will find guilty." He's calling on his mother to be his advocate, to bring his case before the ultimate Judge. He knows he's been wronged, and he needs someone, anyone, to stand up for him.
Finally, he thinks of his father, Jacob, and the grief this will cause him. “Arise, O mother, awake from thy sleep, see how my father is with me in his soul and in his spirit, and comfort him and ease his heavy heart.”
It’s a moment of pure, unadulterated grief and longing. It speaks to the deep connection between a child and their mother, and the desperation we feel when we face unimaginable hardship.
What does it tell us? Maybe that even the heroes of our tradition experienced moments of profound vulnerability. Maybe that grief and loss are universal, transcending time and circumstance. And maybe, just maybe, that even in the darkest of times, the memory of a loved one can offer a glimmer of hope. Just knowing someone cares, even if they're no longer physically present, can be enough to keep us going.