Kollel Wife on a Motorcycle

“I guess he was busy learning and not really listening, but I didn’t realize it at the time. I let the company know I was interested, and every month, for a year, 100 lirot came off my paycheck.”

“You bought a motorcycle?!” I look down incredulously at Leah Bogatz and laugh out loud.

You’d be forgiven for thinking you’re looking at an ancient relic from another age when seeing Mrs. Bogatz for the first time. Her papery thin skin clings loosely around her fragile bones. Sparse white hair peeks out of her hair covering, her light blue eyes are shadowed, and she seems all but swallowed up by the quilt on her bed.

The first time I meet her, she’s approaching 90. Her daughters ask me to stop by and have a chat between her lineup of caretakers. At first glance it’s hard to believe there’s actually a person I can talk to inside this wizened, wrinkled old woman — but that’s only until she opens her mouth. She’s wise and witty, and often makes her listeners laugh twice: a polite little titter after she speaks and a guffaw a moment later when they get it.