<!–
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:"ＭＳ 明朝";
panose-1:0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;
mso-font-charset:128;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-format:other;
mso-font-pitch:fixed;
mso-font-signature:1 134676480 16 0 131072 0;}
@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1073743103 0 0 415 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0cm;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"ＭＳ 明朝";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"ＭＳ 明朝";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page WordSection1
{size:595.0pt 842.0pt;
margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt;
mso-header-margin:35.4pt;
mso-footer-margin:35.4pt;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}
 |
||||||||
| Despite her illness, my mom danced at my brother’s wedding in August. |
door. A little girl is standing there.
“Hi,” she says, “Can you come out and play?”
childhood story, right?
girl was not asking if I would come out to play; she wanted my mother to come
out to play.
said ‘yes.’ There could be laundry piled up or dinner to be made. It didn’t
matter. Eyes twinkling, smile beaming warmth, she would run outside, pulling me
behind her.
my mom would say, grabbing my hand. And we would play wall ball and draw
hopscotch boxes in colored chalk on the driveway. My mom taught my friends Double
Dutch and was a skipping master.
and Barry’s friends loved to hang out our place, the Nathans; there was always a
huge jigsaw puzzle on the dining room table, my mom crouched over, patiently searching
for that elusive piece, inviting our friends to join in the hunt. She played
board games for hours, be it Boggle, Scrabble, Monopoly, Clue. You name it. My
mom was there, surreptitiously teaching us skills such as fair play, concentration, numbers,
spelling, reading and deductive reasoning. Was it professor Plum in the library
with the revolver? Ask my mom. Crossword challenge; seven letters with an ‘x’ in
the middle? Ask my mom.
‘child within,’ shone. “Come, play, she would cajole me, her sullen child. “Have
fun. Even if you have to pretend. “ “And smile. Even if you don’t feel like it.
Show the world a smile.”
deep wisdom. Whatever path Barry and I picked, she was behind us. She was our
ally, always giving us the freedom and space to choose and decide.
paths I took were not exactly ‘close to home.’ Be it backpacking in the
Himalayas, becoming Observant or moving to Israel and taking along her four
beloved grandchildren, she was on my team.
I. Instead she simply loved us for who we are, and with her big, warm heart and
wise soul, she came along for the ride. It was this respect, love and trust
that helped Barry and I grow and become independent.
came to creating a place of love, warmth and acceptance. Young and old, and everyone in between felt
this when they got to know her. She was always more concerned with everyone
else’s needs and never her own. Even in the last few days, lying in her
hospital bed, she would ask about others with true concern. And not once,
during the 12 difficult months of her illness and three hard weeks of being in
palliative care, not once did she complain about her own pain and challenge.
by us all; by her loving sister, Joyce, who was by her side every day, all day;
her devoted nephews Martin and Stewart; her son-in-law, Amir and
daughter-in-law Alina; her soul mate of 60 years, Len; her grandchildren Ariel,
Aviva, Shaya and Talya; and by her children Barry and I.
we had with her. Even in the last few days, we felt her love; be it a small
wink of her eye when she had no strength to talk or the kisses she would weakly
blow, she continued to warm our hearts with her abundant love and show the
world a smile.
Discover more from Life in Israel
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Life in Israel 