Five Years

Shirley Shankman Spiegelman
1925-2013

Today was five years since my mother passed away.

I was away last night and not sure I'd be able to light a candle for her, so I asked my husband to do it at home for me. But later I did light one and drank a l'chaim to her life.

She was beautiful, charming and intelligent. Acting and dancing were among her hobbies. She loved Broadway musicals, band we had many of the albums and listened to them enough for me to still be able to sing some of the great songs from shows like South Pacific, Oklahoma!, The King and I and Mary Martin's Peter Pan.

My mother was lots more than a wannabe actress. Since my father supported the family, she didn't need to work for a living. Besides taking care of us, she was an active member of lots of local organizations, PTA, synagogue Sisterhood and others. She almost always ended up as chairman or president. It was rare for her to have a lesser position. One of her final voluntary positions was chairman of the local PNAI chapter. She even allowed my father's name to be put in for treasurer, even though it meant, considering his condition at the time, that she'd have to do the work for that role, too.

My mother's parents both emigrated from Eastern Europe in the early 20th century. They were both widowed with a total of five children when they married and had another four together. My mother was the second to youngest. My parents built a successful life together. In many ways I've always considered them to be a generation of mythical giants.

Family Resemblences

My mother was a great beauty, and no matter what you think about my looks, I've never looked anything like my mother. I resemble my father without a doubt, and they weren't one of those couples who looked alike or grew to look alike.

Though, over the years I've noticed that from a certain angle, when I'm "thin" I do resemble her in a way. Look at these two pictures and tell me what you think:

There's something in the bone structure, chin and cheekbones, though our features and actual shape of face are totally different. Or am I just dreaming...?

My Mother, Two Years After...

Shirley Shankman Spiegelman, 1925-2013

Tonight, the 7th of Tammuz, is the 2nd Yartzeit (anniversary of death) of my mother, Shirley Shankman Spiegelman, שפרה בת אברהם וחיה רייזיה Shifra bat (daughter of) Avraham and Chaya Raizia.  She was born on May 14, 1925 and passed away 88 years and a month later. In some families, that may not seem like a very long life, but she lived longer than any of her siblings (all 8 of them including a younger sister) and over two decades longer than her parents.

My mother was stunning, a great beauty and stayed gorgeous, without any plastic surgery and minimal make-up all her life. She had three children, seven grandchildren and four great-grandchildren at the time of her death. Since then, another great-granddaughter was born who is named after her. She and my father were married for 65 years.

Besides being a mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and and devoted aunt to all her nieces and nephews, my mother loved the theater and performed in many amateur productions in the Fresh Meadows and Great Neck Community Theaters for decades.

My mother could have been called a SAHM stay at home mom, except for the fact that she didn't stay home much. As long as she was home to give us meals, she considered herself "non-working."

Besides her acting hobby, there wasn't an organization she joined that she didn't end up with a major leadership role. She always ended up president, or chairman or secretary, whether a synagogue group, like the Sisterhood, or the PTA, National Conference of Jewish Women or PNAI. As a young child I learned how to fold in order to help her fold notices we put in the mailboxes in Bell Park Gardens, Bayside, NY. When people wanted to get something done, they called my mother and asked her to join the group.

She lived almost her entire life in New York, but when she reached the stage that she couldn't run the house any more, she and my father moved to Arizona near my sister. It was only when she thought of my children and grandchildren when she said it had been a mistake and they should have moved to Israel.

As you can imagine, she was a tough act to follow. May her memory be a blessing for all!

My Newest Granddaughter and My Mother's Gifts

Mother's Day

My mother holding me when I was about a year old in Bell Park Gardens, Bayside, New York.

We never celebrated Mother's Day in our house, most probably because my mother's birthday was May 14, which is around Mother's Day, and my parents weren't very big on celebrating even our birthdays.

It's almost two years now since my mother, Shirley Shankman Spiegelman, passed away, and there's already a great-granddaughter of hers named after her. Her middle name is Li-Shir (sing to me,) and she and her parents visited the other day.

I really got a kick watching her play with the same toys my mother had bought my eldest over forty years ago. All my children had played with these classic wooden blocks. All sorts of kids who visited my house have played with them, too. And now so have all the grandchildren, may there be many more, G-d willing.

No doubt that my mother enjoys watching her namesake from Olam Haba, the Next World.

Better Late than Never, The "Unveiling"

It was a bit crazy to go to the states, davka, this time of the year. It's not like there was an important family wedding or medical emergency with my father (who is in Arizona, where I also went) or someone else important. Even though it's close to two years since my mother passed away, and we hadn't yet done the unveiling, the time was best for others, so I went.

We were lots a cousins together, plus a couple of old friends. It was nice being together.

My mother is buried with her old friends from Oakland Jewish Center, Bayside, NY, which closed its doors the same summer my mother passed away.

I don't think my mother would be crazy about her location in this corner, but that's where she is now. When my father reaches his "120," he'll join her. My sister based the design of the stone on the one by our paternal grandparents' graves in the "Neshelsk" NY cemetery.

After our little ceremony, which we did without any rabbi, we went to the nearby Hunki's Pizza of Plainview, LI, NY. We shared salads, pizzas, felafel and each other's company, which was nice.

A Crazy Couple of Months

It's just starting to hit me that I've had a crazy couple of months.  Early June I rushed to Arizona, because my mother wasn't doing well.  Also since my son's wedding was coming up, I felt that it would be a good idea to get the summer visit over as soon as I could. 

Within a few days of my return, my mother was dead and I was back on a plane.  Then it was to New York for the funeral.  I managed to return to Israel for most of the shiva.

And then I rushed back to work as soon as the shiva was over.  Since I only work part-time, I didn't "take off" work when my son got married.  I sort of squeezed it all in. 

Now I'm feeling it, especially when people ask me how I am, if I've recovered form the wedding, if things have really begun to sink in.  I didn't really give myself a chance before. And now it's almost Rosh Hashannah, which this year is a challenging three day "yontiff," because it's immediately followed by Shabbat.

I must admit that I am starting to feel that things have changed.  So much is mixed up.

And just like in the middle of a Jewish wedding ceremony the chattan, groom breaks a glass, to remind us all that Jerusalem still hasn't be rebuilt.  We still don't have the Holy Temple on the Temple Mount. 

Photo by Yona Zoref

Still Writing That Journal

It's almost four weeks since my mother passed away in Tempe, AZ, very quietly and undramatically while napping after breakfast.  Since I played no part in planning the funeral, and due to American laws and customs, the funeral was a half a week later.  That left me in a very strange halachik Jewish Law status.  There wasn't all that much I was permitted to do, or really felt like doing.  It also took a couple of days until I knew for sure when the funeral would even be, which delayed the purchase of plane tickets to New York.

I kvetched on facebook about my forced inactivity, no going to work, no reading fun books, no watching TV or movies etc.  David Bedein--Behind the News in Israel quickly came up with a suggestion:

"You're a writer; keep a journal.  If you don't have a laptop to take around when you're traveling, get an old-fashioned notebook."

So I sent my husband to the local store and he got me a small (half-size) notebook.  It's a amazing how quickly it began to fill.  I wrote a lot.  I started it when I was home. I wrote when in the airport, on the plane, at my sister-in-law's, again in the airport, airplane then home in between shiva visitors.  I even had to ask my sister-in-law to buy me another one. (She got me a set of three from Staples.) I take the notebook all the time with me and write on buses and when waiting and at home and babysitting at my daughter's.  I admit that sometimes days pass when I haven't found or made the time to write, but when I write there's so much to write.

When I began writing it, I figured that it would be a good activity for the first thirty days, aka שלושים Shloshim.  In my mother's case it's really more than thirty days, since the halachik end of shloshim is calculated according to burial, and hers was delayed a couple of days.  Since I haven't committed to saying a daily Yizkor, I did not think I needed the year of reflection that Ari L. Goldman used to frame his memoir of his father, Living a Year of Kaddish, which my friend lent me, so I'd have something permitted/suitable to read.

The Goldman book was the perfect book for me to read at the time.  It's honest and reflective.  It doesn't claim perfection, not of his father nor himself.

Ari Goldman is a well-known published writer, not a blogger.  He wrote an excellent book, which I recommend reading. 

I do plan on "doing something" with this journal I'm writing, most probably make it into an e-book, which can be accessed through one of those e-publishers, or whatever.  If by some strange unexpected miracle, the book gains some commercial popularity then maybe there would be a paper version.  But the main reason for writing this journal is, like my blogging, to keep me sane and express my thoughts and feelings.  It's not meant to be a classic biography or autobiography.  It is a memoir with all the quirks characteristic of that genre.

Memoir (from French: mémoire: memoria, meaning memory or reminiscence), is a literary nonfiction genre. More specifically, it is a collection of memories that an individual writes about moments or events, both public or private that took place in the author's life. The assertions made in the work are understood to be factual. While memoir has historically been defined as a subcategory of autobiography since the late 20th century, the genre is differentiated in form, presenting a narrowed focus. Like most autobiographies, memoirs are written from the first-person point of view. An autobiography tells the story of a life, while memoir tells a story from a life, such as touchstone events and turning points from the author's life. The author of a memoir may be referred to as a memoirist.

I've been including things that some people may find unpleasant, but that's all from my truth, how I remember my mother, my life.  None of us are perfect, and if life was perfect, it would make a very boring read.

PS re: the old-fashioned pen and paper method of writing
I actually find it much more efficient and less distracting than when I type on a computer.  At first my handwriting was terribly "rusty."  I wasn't used to writing more than a few words by hand.  But now I really enjoy sitting with my little spiral notebook and pen.  Of course there will be a need to type it all up, but that will be the first stage of editing, no doubt. I'm not the type to hold a laptop on my lap in all sorts of places.  I don't even have one of those lightweight computers.  I do my "heavy typing" on a pc in the den.  The dining room laptop, lives on the dining room table during the week.  It's more tiring to type on that the pc.  I was taught touch-typing in the 7th grade, JHS 74, over half a century ago. I need a good standard, old-fashioned keyboard.  Or I need a pen and paper.

Like an Epidemic of Deaths, Another Eulogy for My Mother

In on of the Matan courses I've been taking, the one about ספר במדבר, Sefer Bamidbar, The Book of Numbers taught by Atara Snowbell, we've mentioned the subject of how/when the generation of the Exodus died out.  A punishment for their sins, for supporting the ten tribal heads who discouraged the immediate entering of the Land of Israel after G-d performed the great miracle of freeing them from Egyptian slavery, was that their generation would have to die out before the Jewish People could finally enter.  There's a question I remember her asking or talking about.  Did everyone die about the same time, or was it spread out over the forty, or more exactly about thirty-eight years?

The Chumash, the first Five Books of the Bible which recounts the beginnings of Jewish and World History, from Creation until the death of Moshe, Moses.

Deuteronomy Chapter 34 דְּבָרִים

ד  וַיֹּאמֶר יְהוָה אֵלָיו, זֹאת הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּעְתִּי לְאַבְרָהָם לְיִצְחָק וּלְיַעֲקֹב לֵאמֹר, לְזַרְעֲךָ, אֶתְּנֶנָּה; הֶרְאִיתִיךָ בְעֵינֶיךָ, וְשָׁמָּה לֹא תַעֲבֹר.	4 And the LORD said unto him: 'This is the land which I swore unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, saying: I will give it unto thy seed; I have caused thee to see it with thine eyes, but thou shalt not go over thither.'
ה  וַיָּמָת שָׁם מֹשֶׁה עֶבֶד-יְהוָה, בְּאֶרֶץ מוֹאָב--עַל-פִּי יְהוָה.	5 So Moses the servant of the LORD died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the LORD.

There has been something strange going on among neighbors in Shiloh and among even other friends of mine.  For the past couple of months, it seems there always seems to be someone sitting shiva, sometimes even more than one at a time.  All of the people I know of who have died, died of natural death.  They didn't die in accidents or terror attacks.  There was no great drama involved with their deaths.  Their deaths had been expected.  All were ill, suffering.  When people ask me about my mother's death and I describe old age and physical deterioration, the accumulated cholesterol (like sludge) in the circulatory system and not waking up from sleep, so many people have similar stories about the recent death of their parents.

Yes, G-d controls coincidence the timing of life and death. Doesn't G-d have reasons?  Coincidence isn't random.

My mother lived longer than anyone in her family.  To reach the age of eighty-eight in her family, her parents and siblings, it's like living until one hundred and twenty one (121.)  Her younger sister by five years, my Aunt Natalie Rosenberg, died just a few months ago.  Only one other of their seven other siblings had passed her eightieth birthday, and if I'm not mistaken only one other even made it past seventy.

One thing many mentioned was that my mother was concerned about the importance of eating healthy food, whole wheat, fruits and vegetables and raw salads long before anyone else they knew.  It obviously made a big difference.  My mother had a very active life well into her eighties, but there's a limit how much we can improve our genetic make up.  My mother's long active life was a triumph over nature.

She loved museums and volunteered as a docent in the Nassau County Art Museum.  She had a special cane which could be opened into a chair, and that's how she got around when she needed to walk a lot.  She stuffed everything she could into her life until she could no longer control her mind and body.

One thing for sure.  She was a tough act to follow.



My parents and I at the NCSY
Ben Zakkai Honor Society Dinner when
I was inducted into the society.

Baruch Dayan Ha'Emet

 

Shirley Spiegelman

שפרה בת אברהם וחיה ריזיה

Shifra bat Avraham and Chaya Raisia

 

לעילוי נשמתה

Li'ilu'i Nishmata

May her Soul be Elevated

 

 

Amazing Funeral, Great Tribute

cross-posted on Shiloh Musings

great-grandmother

Yesterday was my mother's funeral at the Oakland Jewish Center section of the New Montifiore Cemetery.  It was conducted by a Rabbi  ?Klein and with the participation of Rabbi Dale Polakoff of the Great Neck Synagogue. My many cousins plus some friends and other family members attended.  My brother, sister and I really appreciate it.  I was told that it was considered a large group.  I guess it was, because Rabbi Klein had asked if there would be a minyon of men, and we certainly had that.

The cousins, from both sides (to tell the truth, a stranger would not have been able to tell if they were my father's or mother's nieces and nephews) really enjoyed Rabbi Polakoff's description of my mother as "feisty."  This was a great tribute to their Aunt Shirley whom they obviously adored.

Observing my absolutely wonderful cousins in action together, I have no doubt that they all are a tribute to my parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents who produced this wonderful family I am privileged to be one of.
There aren't many families as amazing as mine.

My Cousin Howard opened his home to us for the post-funeral shiva.  He set it up as a proper shiva home, covered the mirrors and had water for ritual hand-washing outside the door.  One is supposed to wash one's hands when leaving a cemetery, but since he knew that we'd be going into the cars straight from the gravesite, he was prepared.  My sister-in-law brought low chairs from her Young Israel of Scarsdale, and my friend Rose made sure there was the traditional "seudat havra'ah" for the mourners to eat.  There was also kosher food for all, since many traveled long distances and we were all mourning.

It was truly a celebration of who and what my mother was and no doubt my mother would have greatly enjoyed the "party."

Afterwards I got back to my sister-in-law's and on old friend from Great Neck came over to "linachem."  His parents had been very generous to me in the years I had needed a place for Shabbat and holiday meals.  We hadn't seen each other for over forty years, but have had occasional email contact.  The Jewish World is amazing.

The day before, on Tuesday, there was a funeral ceremony for my mother in Phoenix Arizona, which my father was able to attend.  My NY daughter was there, too and stayed with my father after my sister and her husband traveled to New York for the burial.  Some of my mother's former caregivers joined the friends my parents had made in a Conservative Scottsdale Synagogue my parents have joined since their move from New York.  Also attending were many friends of my sister, her family and more.

Today the shiva continues at my sister and brother in law's home, then to JFK and my flight home to Shiloh where I will continue sitting until I get up on Tuesday morning, G-d willing.

li'ilu'i nishmata

May her soul be elevated...

Shifra bat Avraham and Chaya Raisia

Shirley Shankman Spiegelman

My Mother's Funeral Today

Shirley Shankman Spiegelman, 1925-2013
Shifra bat Avraham and Chaya Raisia
Brooklyn, Bayside, Great Neck, all in New York and finally Arizona
last surviving of nine children
wife, mother, aunt, grandmother, great-grandmother and friend to many

Volunteers don't take days off.

My Mother's Obituary

Now I'm an "onennet," the term for a mourner who hasn't yet started the "shiva" period.  Today I'll be traveling to New York for my mother's funeral and the beginning of the "shiva."  I'm lucky that there's a full seven day "shiva." No Jewish holiday reduces or cancels it.

What's really strange is that I "get up" from "shiva" on "Shiva Assar b'Tammuz," the Fast of the 17th of Tammuz, and then I end the "Shloshim," thirty day mourning period around "Tisha B'Av," the most intense day of national mourning on the Jewish Calendar.

My mother's mother died sixty-one 61 years ago on the day before Passover.  There is no real shiva in such cases, and I think that my mother suffered that loss of being together with her siblings at such a traumatic time.  She was only just short of her twenty-seventh birthday and in about her eighth month  pregnant with my brother, her second child.

Here's the obituary my brother-in-law wrote:

Spiegelman, Shirley

Shirley passed away at age 88 Saturday June 15, 2013, in Tempe, AZ. Born in Brooklyn in 1925, she moved from Great Neck, NY, to Arizona in 2010. Devoted to her family and community, Shirley had a lifelong passion for dance, theater and the arts, making the most of the cultural offerings in New York and wherever she traveled. She put her experienced eye and mind to work for many years as a docent at the Nassau County Museum of Art, on Long Island. She was pre-deceased by her parents and eight brothers and sisters.  She is survived by her adoring husband of 65 years, Sidney, her loving children, Vivian, Hal Thomas Spiegelman and Batya Medad, seven grandchildren, four great grandchildren, and many nieces and nephews. All will treasure her spirited love, beauty, warmth, fairness and good cooking. A service will be held at 10:30 a.m. Tuesday, June 18th, at Sinai Mortuary, 4538 North 16^th Street, Phoenix, AZ. A graveside ceremony will take place at 1:00 p.m. Wednesday June 19^th at the New Montefiore Cemetery, 1180 Wellwood Avenue, West Babylon, NY.