My eulogy for my dear sweet Uncle Charley

My dear sweet Uncle Charley died last week.  Here is the eulogy I gave at his funeral. 

As we come to lay to rest and give tribute to the last Levine brother of four, my dear sweet Uncle Charley, I cry tears of sadness for his tremendous loss and for the end of an era.  But I also cry tears of gratitude for a long rich and full life with many wonderful memories and legacies all four brothers have left behind. 

As a child, and up until as recent as our last Facetime call two weeks ago when my dear sweet Uncle Charley managed to give me a tiny smile that only I could recognize, he always made me feel good about myself.  He always made me feel so pretty and happy when I was with him.  I feel so fortunate to have many pictures of us together from the last 7 years since dad died, and you can see in my smile in the pictures how happy I always was when I was with him. 

My uncle Charley and my dad were always great buddies and in the seven years since dad's death my dear Uncle Charley kept dad alive for me.  He shared wonderful stories of their childhood.

  

I also heard about some of their escapades together, like the time they were American soldiers in Paris during World War II and they went to the Folies Bergere.  Maybe these are not things a daughter and niece should have heard.  :)

On my last summer visit, before the cancer monster reared its ugly head and begin its ravaging taking with it the body of the man I have loved my entire life, he praised me for my accomplishments, including the family I created.  He told me I should feel very proud.  What a wonderful stamp of approval for this very sad 60 year old woman, mother, grandmother, wife and his niece who began mourning his loss before he was even gone.

Like dad, he always looked for the good in things but his final journey left him bereft of the tools that used to serve him, particularly this ability to find something good from what was happening to him.  He knew he had to come to grips with the fact that he was going to have to leave the house and community he loved so much to go to spend his final days with his dear Nathan and Brenda.  And he said to me that he knew this journey was "going to something bad."

He knew this last shedding of his body was not going to be done with what served him so well his entire 93 years.  This time he was not going to be able to find the good in it.  So he knew he needed to be resigned to his sad reality and fate and he did that with such dignity and respect holding his head high, and in so doing giving to those of us who loved him so dearly and who he has left behind, yet another life lesson on how to live with resign and resolve even when, or especially when, things are difficult.  What beautiful lessons to leave behind!

He would say he could feel the changes in his body.  He was very self-aware and in that we are very similar.  He also told me he used to work things out in his sleep and wake up with answers.  Until he expressed that to me I hadn't realized that I did the same thing.  And seeing that it was a gift that he possessed made me realize what a great gift indeed it was for me, too. 

I asked him a month ago, before that cancer monster started to take his speech away, if he was getting answers in his sleep and once again, his response made me realize that something that he had been doing for so long no longer served him.

Over the years since dad died I tried to visit my Uncle Charley here in State College as often as possible.  Making the four-hour trip through this beautiful state that I called home until I went to college gave me much time to reflect on my own past and gave me plenty of time to think about what questions I wanted to ask him. 

I always asked him to share wisdom with me from his nine decades of life.   And on the last visit I asked him to give me a blessing and this is what he said, "Surround yourself with nice people and they will be nice to you."  When I asked what you do when they aren't nice to you?” he answered, "Stay away from them.  I always tried to stay away from people I don't trust."  Such simple wisdom, but how often do we live in this world heeding such sage advice?

When I asked him if he has any last wishes, he said, “I wish everyone to carry out the Levine tradition of being truthful, honest and respectful.”

When I asked him about marriage a big smile came to his face and he looked at my dear Aunt Sylvia, who has been sitting by his side for 68 years, just having had their anniversary, I was transported back to the 1940s when they met.  His youthful smile and love for her were as fresh as I imagine it was when they met all those years ago.  When I said that she is very devoted to him he responded, yes she is and that they had a very good marriage. 

Brenda, who is what I called his trusted guardian angel, sent me a heartbreaking picture last week of Sylvia and Charley holding hands that she captioned, "This is what 68 years of marriage look like."

Before his real decline started he said to me, "I pray to G-d every night to send His healing hand."

As my beloved Uncle Charley journeyed towards death I continued to hold him dear in my heart and soul and embraced the love that burst out of me every time I thought of him.  In his last days, I too prayed to G-d every night for G-d to send His healing hand.  I prayed that my dear cousin, Brenda and my twin Nathan, who graciously invited him along with dear Aunt Sylvia, into their house for this journey, the fortitude and strength to be G-d’s partner as they held Uncle Charley’s hand through his sacred final journey.

In my dear sweet Uncle Charley’s death, I will now take his lead and pray that same prayer every night.  May G-d send His healing hand so that my dear Uncle’s neshema, his soul, will have an Aliyah, an ascent.  And to us, his grieving family that he has left behind, I pray too, that we may see the healing hand of G-d in our lives in order to help us with the grieving process.

Uncle Charley, we are all following your lead with something else.  You always loved to do the mitzvah of walking your guests to the door or to their car as they would leave you.  So now, the people who love you, are doing the same and we are walking you to your final resting place here in this world as your neshema takes its ascent. 

It is customary when we hear of a death to utter these difficult words, so I say at this very sad time, Baruch Dayan Ha’emet, Blessed is the true judge.  

The Unfolding of Self-Awareness

In both my professional, as well as personal, life I have come to realize something that has become very important to me. It has to do with self-awareness, which is foundational in my work with educators.

As I have encouraged others to be self-reflective and self-aware I have come to realize that simplistically (it is anything but simple) people seem to approach self-awareness in one of two ways, and it basically has to do with how they live their lives.

I have observed that we tend to either attack life full on or we tend to gently embrace it.  In the first way we tend to muscle our way through things in contrast to the second when we enter and observe our situations then act. Yet, whichever way we go through life, it’s a push/pull.  I’m convinced that the more gentle and honest we are with ourselves in understanding which is our way, the more fulfilling the journey will be and the more rewarding the outcome will be as we grapple with the push/pull nature of this thing we call living.

In his book Staring at the Sun: Overcoming the Terror of Death Irvin Yalom says, "Self-awareness is a supreme gift, a treasure as precious as life.  This is what makes us human.  But it comes with a costly price: the wound of mortality.  Our existence is forever shadowed by the knowledge that we will grow, blossom and inevitably, diminish and die."

Ouch!  This blog post just took a morbid turn, but not really.   Yalom says the irony and paradox of staring into the reality that we all will die is that we become less concerned about dying.  We fret less when we address, acknowledge and embrace the truth that we will die.  It becomes less frightening when we look right at it.  What a great way to prevent anxiety!

So how about if we just let the self-awareness process have the opportunity to evolve and unfold within us?  It is delicate, yet, very powerful journey, which at times is very difficult and painful yet so worthwhile.  The longer we live, the more profound this becomes.   If we can be gentle with ourselves and allow our self-awareness to unfold in its own time and way, the richer and deeper our lives can become.

Who's in?

EDUCATION AT ITS BEST!

As we approach the 77th commemoration of Kristallnacht (defined below) on November 10th, I would like to share a post that I wrote two years ago about a meaningful experience that I had for the 75th commemoration of that fateful day.

Unfortunately, since my post, Rabbi Hilsenrath, z"l , passed away.  May his memory be a blessing to his family and to all of us whose lives he deeply touched and influenced.  

Education at Its Best 

I recently attended a Kristallnacht 75th commemoration program at Teaneck Public High School, in New Jersey.  Kristallnacht, or the “Night of Broken Glass”, was an attack against Jews throughout Nazi Germany and parts of Austria on November 9-10, 1938.  The name Kristallnacht comes from the shards of broken glass that littered the streets after the windows of Jewish-owned stores, buildings, and synagogues were broken.

The program’s guest speaker was Mrs. Devorah Hilsenrath, the mother of my dear friend Rochelle Goldschmiedt. Mrs. Hilsenrath was in Auschwitz Concentration Camp for a year, 1944-45.  She was 12.   

Mrs. Devorah Hilsenrath, age 12 in Hungary

Rochelle’s father, Rabbi Yaakov Hilsenrath, z"l, was six years old during Kristallnacht and before his wife shared her story, he eloquently described his memories of Kristallnacht.

Rochelle (Hilsenrath) Goldschmiedt and her parents, Rabbi and Mrs. Hilsenrath

This program was under the direction of Mrs. Goldie Minkowitz, the Director of the Holocaust Center at the school. The fact that this public school has a Holocaust Center is truly remarkable, especially since its school body is not Jewish.  Mrs. Minkowitz first gave the students an overview of Kristallnacht and then she introduced Rochelle who in turn introduced her parents.

After her father spoke, Rochelle set the stage for what her mother was going to share.  Rochelle made it very relevant to the students.  She said, “Imagine that, just like you were instructed this morning, you were told to come to this room.  But before you are allowed to enter,  your phones are taken away. You won’t be allowed to call or text anyone.  You cannot check Facebook. You are not told why you are here.  You are not given any food or water. You are to stay here, with everyone else, for an entire day.  You don’t know where your family is.  You have no answers. That is my mother’s story.”

Mrs. Hilsenrath, in her soft spoken and gentle manner, shared her horrific and painful story.  As an audience participant who sat in the back row, I had the privilege of watching the students’ reactions.  The thing that stood out for me was how a few of the boys, during Mrs. Hilsenrath’s talk, began to remove their hoodies. Talk about cultural respect and shift!

Below are the 11 questions that the high schoolers asked Mrs. Hilsenrath after she finished her story. I feel these questions capture the essence of the program and represent education at its best.  The adolescents’ questions show how they were processing and trying to make sense of the difficult story they heard.  The way they formulated their questions, in my opinion, serves as a poignant framework for what the program was meant to be, and what education is all about.

The students’ questions followed by Mrs. Hilsenrath’s answers:

Q : How many days did you have to go without water?

A:  On the cattle car, 4 days.

Q:  Did you have to clean your bunker before you had to leave when you were moved to the work camp?

A:  There wasn’t much to clean, the bunker was very small. And we had to leave in a hurry.  They ordered “Macht shnell!”  Hurry up!!

Q: Do you know the name of the work camp you were in?

A:  Leipzig. 

Q: Where were you marching to when you went on the death march?

A:  We didn’t know, we just followed the Nazis. It was called the death march because so many people died on the way.

Q:  Did you ever see Hitler?

A:  No, but his pictures were all over.

Q:  Why do people blame Germany when it was the Nazis?

A:  I hate to say it, but the German people cooperated.  There were some who helped, but unfortunately they were the exception.

Q: When did you understand what the crematorium was?

A:  When I was back in my home country of Hungary, after my release.  I had no idea when I was in Auschwitz that the heavy smoke was from human bodies, from the bodies of women, men and children.

Q: How long was the time span from when you were taken from your home until you returned?

A:  A little over a year.

Q: How do you feel now that you survived and are a source of inspiration for your children?

A:  I am grateful to G-d!  My children are inspirational for me.

Q:  What was life like after?

A:  I searched for my parents. I lived with my aunt and uncle and I cried for three years.

Q: (Through tears a young man asked the final question.) Since you were witness to this atrocity, is it possible for you to prayer for the people suffering in Syria?

A:  I don’t like to see suffering anywhere.  I pray to the Almighty that there should be peace throughout the entire world.

Mrs. Hilsenrath showing her number tattoo

Mrs. Hilsenrath answering questions

When her mother was finished with her story, Rochelle who is a personal trainer, spoke about how she gains strength from her mother’s story, so much so that she chose to compete in a triathlon and temporarily tattoo her mother’s number on her arm. She said during the triathlon when she needed strength she would look at her arm and that helped her go on and make it to the finish line.

These living history lessons offer tales of strength, courage, and human survival and resilience, all very powerful life lessons encapsulated in one program.

Education at its best!

Vincent McHale, Assistant Superintendent for Curriculum and Instruction; Barbara Pinsak, Superintendent;  Rochelle Goldschmiedt and her parents Rabbi and Mrs. Hilsenrath;  Pearl Marcovitz, Holocaust Center Volunteer; Dr. King, Supervisor of PK-12 Social Studies and Business and Practical Arts;  Goldie Minkowitz, Director of Holocaust Center

Photos courtesy of Goldie Minkowitz

Healing

 "You can only live in the past inside your mind." 

~Augusten Burroughs

Two of my dear high school friends were in a very serious car accident just five short, very long, months ago.   SHE has been home for a few months already and HE just went home this week.  He's alive and is walking, both miracles!  There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of both of them and their journey of healing. 


In Augusten Burroughs' latest brilliant book (I think all his books are brilliant)  This is How: Help for The self  he writes in the chapter entitled:  "How to Remain Unhealed"  

I had mistakenly assumed that healed meant restored.....

Heal is a television word.  It's satisfying to see somebody who 

has gone through adversity and come out the other side, healed.....

That's almost word for word, how they might introduce a segment on 

healing on a talk show.  'Come out the other side' Like a tunnel.  

But here's the thing:  there are some things in life from which you do not 

heal....The pressure to heal can cause enduring damage.....

He goes on to say that after a loss or tragedy there is a hole that is never filled.   But not to despair because look where he takes this.  


He says that humans are able to live 

....just fine with many holes of many sizes and shapes.  

And pleasure, love, compassion, fulfillment-these things 

do not leak out of holes of any size.

So we can be filled with holes and at the same time hold the feelings that might seem to be opposistes-like joy and excitement.  The feelings of loss return frequently and we will reside in them once and awhile, but he says 

.....loss creates a greater overall surface area within a person.  

You expand as a result of it..... even though it may feel like the opposite.....

Huge loss resets you in a way.....the pain of your loss will remain 

with you for the rest of your life, but great joy will be there right beside it....

Deep sorrow and deep joy can exist within you, side by side.  

At every moment.  And it's not confusing.  And it's not a conflict.  

This is among the oldest, deepest, most primal truths:  

the facts of life may be, at times, unbearably painful.  

But the core, the bones of life are generous beyond all reason or belief.  

Those things that ought to kill us do not.  

This should be taken as encouragement to continue....

And this is what my dear friends are doing.  They are continuing....  and they are my teachers.    

My, how 2 years flew by.....

Today is my dad's 2nd yartzheit. two years ago today, according the Jewish lunar calendar, my father died.    In some ways, it feels like just yesterday and in other ways it feels like it was ages ago.  I suppose, as I've said (and written) before, that must be what eternity is like, timeless.....not time bound.....

I am filled with so many emotions on this day of commemoration, but the predominate one is a feeling of profound existential loneliness.  I guess that's the status of someone without parents, being existentially alone......

Today, there are so many wonderful memories that are flooding in, and they almost feel like a soothing salve.  Yet,  I can't seem to be able to smear that salve on fast enough to soothe the grief and pain that still linger two years later......

There is the memory of my daddy and me in Washington, DC when I was about 5.

And there is the memory of us together at his synagogue's 100th anniversary dinner.  I cherish this picture, because it is the last one we have of us together before his health started to fail.

I am no longer someone's daughter.  I am existentially alone, yet the wonderful life lessons he taught me, along with the wonderful memories of him, nurture and cradle me and I am deeply grateful for those lessons and for those memories.  I have taken his lessons to heart and have become a strong and independent woman with fierce intuition and I know he would be proud of me.  Thank you for everything daddy!  May your nishamah (soul) have a complete aliyah (return to its eternal resting place).  I love you, always. 

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