At Mom-Mom’s gravesite yesterday, I didn’t have the words. And with the snowstorm scattering us too quickly, I missed too many stories. So, here are my thoughts. I’d love it if you would add your own.
Dottie’s story is a true American story. She came by boat at the age of six, speaking no English and knowing little of what to expect. She was given a new name, one more pronounceable on an immigration officer’s lips than her given one. She graduated high school, which not every girl her age did. She worked in the business that allowed an Eastern European family that came here with nothing to climb into the middle class. She married and gave her children, her grandchildren, and her great-grandchildren opportunities she could not have imagined on that first boat ride.
And if that were the end of the story, it would have been enough. But Dottie’s story offers us all so much more. Through her grace and kindness, she became the very heart and soul of her extended family. The matzoh ball soup and brisket. The cards sent unfailingly on important occasions. The warmth of her hugs. The wit. These things endeared her to everyone around her, so much so that in her later years, she became a mother to more than her two sons and one daughter, a grandmother to more than her five grandchildren, and a great-grandmother to more than her eight grandchildren.
And if that were the end of the story, it would have been enough. But for me, she was also a steadfast link to our Jewish heritage and tradition. One of the things I am most grateful for is that I got to go to synagogue with her last October, the last time I saw her alive. She was happy to be able to say the Shehechiyanu, since it was the first time I had come to temple with her. When I light shabbat candles or ring in the new year or share a Passover meal with friends, it always brings to mind my grandmother, for this is something we shared.
We were all wishing that Dottie would make it to 100, so that we could gather once more an celebrate her amazing life. But she came to the anniversary of her own daughter’s passing, she looked up at an iconic photo of her husband, and I think she decided that it was enough. She lived the life she wanted to live, and now she is at peace with Joe, Barbara, Max, Minnie, Toby, Terry, Dave, and all the others who came before her.
May Dottie’s memory be a blessing to all of us.
Here is a slideshow put together by Holly: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=spkM5vNBSyc&feature=youtu.be.