INthe last years of his life, Rav Moshe Feinstein ztz”l was very weak and access to the gadol hador was greatly curtailed. I vacillated between feelings of concern for the Rosh Yeshivah’s health and my overwhelming desire to see and hear from this Torah giant. In fact, a close relative of Rav Moshe’s once admonished me for coming to speak with the Rosh Yeshivah and not allowing him to rest. The unforgettable Rebbetzin a”h came to my defense then, saying, “The Rosh Yeshivah likes it and it doesn’t take a lot of time.” I was grateful for her support, and each of those brief encounters with Rav Moshe taught me lessons for life that I have been able to pass down to future generations.
One of my last conversations with Rav Moshe was on the day of my wedding. The backstory to this encounter had happened three or four years earlier, when I had needed guidance on a serious shidduch-related issue. My own rebbi, the rosh yeshivah of Yeshiva Chofetz Chaim, Rav Henoch Leibowitz ztz”l, had urged me to speak to the gadol hador.
After sharing my dilemma and receiving his insight, he had given me a brachah to find my zivug very soon. I had responded by saying, “and the Rosh Yeshivah should be the mesader kiddushin at the chasunah.”
“Im yirtzeh Hashem,” Rav Moshe replied.
A few years later, when I indeed got engaged, I faced a dilemma. While it would be an incredible zechus to have the gadol hador as my mesader kiddushin, he was very weak, not to mention that the wedding would be taking place in the middle of a brutal winter. In addition, my own rebbi, Rav Henoch Leibowitz, was my father’s rebbi as well, and my father felt strongly that he should be offered siddur kiddushin.
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