As the Book of Bereisheit comes to a close, the last - and greatest - of the Patriarchs, Yakov, completes his days on Earth.



It has been a tumultuous life, covering thousands of miles and producing the lasting lineage of Bnei Yisrael. Yakov reflects on his life with no small amount of melancholy, calling his years "few and tragic." After all, he has battled his brother Esav, lived with and been cheated by a devious father-in-law, seen his daughter kidnapped and raped, lost his favorite wife, and believed his beloved son had been killed.



Can you blame him for being bitter?



In fact, it is only the "bookends" of the 17 years when Yosef was at home, and the 17 years when Yakov and Yosef are finally reunited in Egypt, that Yakov truly "lives"; for only then is his family complete and in one place.



As Yakov prepares to meet Yosef, G-d appears to him - for the first time in 22 years(!) - and blesses him. The final, ultimate bracha Yakov receives is that "Yosef will put his hands on your eyes." Just what does this unusual phrase mean?



Zidkiyahu was king of Israel during the churban (destruction) of Jerusalem. When the Babylonians captured him, they brought his children before him and murdered them before his very eyes. Then they blinded the king, so that the death of his children was the last thing he ever saw.



For more than two decades, all that Yakov, the grieving father, could see before his eyes was the death of Yosef. It blinded him to all other stimuli - to joy or celebration or a sense of peace. Even his vision of G-d was obscured. But now, Hashem promises that the last thing Yakov will see in his life is his beloved son Yosef standing at his bedside, ready - when the time comes - to kiss his father good-bye and gently close his eyes.



What a simcha it is when a father can see his children around him, knowing that the next generation is secure and ready to carry on his mission and values. But what a heartbreak it is when it is the father who must close the eyes of his son, reversing all the rules of nature and life.



When the army medic who worked on our beloved Ari, H.y.d., came to tell us what had happened in those terrible last moments, I inexplicably, instinctively asked him, "Did you close his eyes?" The battle-hardened soldier began to cry and just nodded his head up and down, unable to utter the words.



Now we understand better why, in the "Bedtime Kriat Shema", just before we close our eyes to sleep, we say the famous verse, "May you see your children in front of you, Shalom al Yisrael."



May Hashem open His own eyes wide and see the terrible suffering of His people. May He allow us to see our children before us. May He let the sons close the eyes of their fathers, and may He bring peace upon Israel.