This is the transcript of what I said this morning at my grandmother's levaya. When I first got the news that she had passed away, I didn't think it was even possible for Sam and I to get in for the funeral. Somehow we made it, and I was able to write this before getting on the plane in Israel and fix it up during the short layover in New York this morning. I also somehow managed to get up and share these thoughts with my family and a room full of people. I am so glad it happened.
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Fifteen years ago when our
Papa Harold passed away and we were asked to share stories about him, it was
hard for us to think of a story that involved just Papa Harold and not him
together with our Grandma Rose. Throughout
our childhood they were always together, always a unit. They would come together to pick us up from
school, they cared for us when we were sick, and they took us on trips around Boston.
We didn’t imagine how long
Grandma Rose could hold on in this world without Papa Harold by her side. She lived to celebrate the three of us
completing high school, college, and graduate school (well almost all of us –
Chava and I are still academically smarter than Sam). She made it to Israel for Sam’s wedding and
lived to meet her great granddaughter Hodaya and teach Hodaya her favorite
songs. Celebrating her 100th
birthday last year on Chanukah was nothing short of miraculous. This year on her 101st birthday
she got to celebrate Chava and Al’s engagement. She gave her seal of approval when she said that Al was "a handsome young man with a nice smile". The picture of her giving Al a big kiss on the cheek is priceless.
Having a grandmother who
lived to 101 was certainly incredible. After all, how many life-time Bostonians
do you know who were alive to see the past 6 Red Sox World Series championships? But
the number of years she lived isn’t what will make her so memorable. I’ll remember the time Grandma Rose and Papa
Harold brought us apples instead of fruit roll-ups to Friday pick-up because
they thought a healthy choice was a better choice. We shot that idea down pretty fast. I’ll remember how whenever I introduced her
to a friend of mine she would say what a nice little boy or girl they were –
even when the friends were college graduates like myself but hey, it’s all
relative.
My mother told me yesterday
that I was such a good granddaughter. I
responded that I will continue to be a good granddaughter. After all, both my grandmothers will always
be looking down at me smiling at my accomplishments, and glaring at me when I
put on a wrinkled shirt or don’t brush my hair to their liking. They somehow managed to do it from 6000 miles
away, so I can’t imagine now will be any different.
To conclude I want to thank,
on behalf of all of us, the fantastic health aides Grandma Rose has taking care
of her. Barbara, Sharon, Karen, and
Hanifah – you became true members of the Zibman household. You quickly commanded the laws of keeping
kosher, Shabbat, and even acquired a sizable Hebrew vocabulary. You’re all ready to visit me and Sam in
Israel.
And lastly, a thank you to
our ema for being a wonderful daughter to Grandma Rose while continuing to be a
wonderful mother to us. As you would
say, you were a paradigm of virtue, even though I know you will try to argue
otherwise.
יהי זכרה ברוך
