Eulogy for Mom and Dad
Howard Edelberg
THEY MEET: 1939, December 24th, nearly 81 years ago at the age of 18, Mom’s close friend Gladys Alschuler was having a party and invited Mom. Gladys was very excited because Gladys’ boyfriend was coming all the way from NJ to attend this party in Philadelphia. As things turned out, at the party Mom and Gladys’ boyfriend spent much of the night talking together. Mom felt awkward about this and at one point asked, “Aren’t you Gladys’ boyfriend. Dad replied, “Boyfriend? I’m her cousin”! And that changed everything.
At the end of the party, Dad offered to “escort” Mom home. Gladys chimed in, “We will ALL take Charlotte home”, and that’s what they did. Afterwards, Dad asked Gladys for Mom’s phone number. Gladys said, “You have to wait two weeks, and if you still want Charlotte’s phone number, I will give it to you then”. Once the two weeks were up, my father got my mother’s phone number and the romance of the 18-year olds began.
WAYS OF MOM & DAD: Mom used to say, Dad and her were actually quite different, but their values were the same, and that’s what was important. While neither were personally religious, they both felt a close tie to their Jewish heritage and culture, and enjoyed reading literature about those topics and customs. On the other hand – when it came to decision making Mom tended to go with her heart, while Dad approached things from more of a scientific perspective. This was especially true with cooking. Mom’s old school approach embellished her passion of cooking from the heart. Dad – with his lifetime quest for the perfect cup of coffee led to something akin to the study of nuclear fusion. At the time of Dad’s death, he was still experimenting with various tweaks to his coffee.
Seeing the lighter side of life was a hallmark of Mom and Dad. It was the little things in life that mattered the most and brought true happiness. The little encounters with strangers, especially helping those in need and those less fortunate, slowing down to see the beauty that nature offers, enjoying a meal at a restaurant and getting together with friends and family – these little things brought them great happiness and helped to define who they are. This is what was important to them.
CAMPING: They say a family’s character is built on its experiences together. These are the experiences that we can look back on as a family and can make lasting impressions and provide us with fond memories. One I often think about is our camping trips in the early 1960’s when we lived in Texas and Oklahoma. – bounding across the Texas plains and the Oklahome panhandle in the family Pontiac. I remember sitting in the front seat between Mom and Dad with Ralph Walt and Neal sitting in back. In the early 1960’s, air conditioners weren’t what they are nowadays. Though sweltering in the back, I would be nice and cool up front, with my head resting on Mom’s cool soft arm. I felt so secure. Gazing at my father wearing his white cowboy hat, he was not the Jewish professor of psychophysiology. He was Matt Dillon, Ben Cartwright, and the Rifleman, all rolled up in one. No one was going to mess with him OR our family! Inevitably, tensions in the back seat would rise, and after a couple warning shots across the bow, Dad’s arm would rise to the back, flailing like a serpent rising from the sea as he would instill some order and discipline to my brothers in the rear. Then there would be an earie silence and peace by persuasion.
Once at the campsite we worked well together - getting things set up, preparing meals, cleaning, hiking, and enjoying the outdoors. It was just some good old fashioned family time together. Mom never complained about the rustic lifestyle, however once back home she would always say the same thing in her light hearted tone, “I JUST aged ten years”. I could not understand – not having to bath for a week, skimping on toothbrushing, not having to worry about washing up before eating. How could it be any better?
VALUES and LESSONS LEARNED: As you may know, black licorice is an Edelberg favorite. I was about 10 years old and dying for a piece of licorice. In the hutch, top drawer on the right was a nearly full bag of licorice where Dad used to keep it, to be distributed as our after-dinner treat. It was heavenly. One day I could not contain my desires and took just one little piece of licorice. Only one problem. I forgot about my father’s sense of smell. A few minutes later Dad strolled by and sure enough paused and looked at me. “Howard. Is that licorice I smell? Did you have a piece?” I replied, “Nope. I didn’t have any licorice.” “Okay” Dad said, and happily went on his way. I felt bad about lying yet figured that was the best path to take at the time. A few minutes later Dad calmly asked me once again and I repeated my answer. Dad did not pursue and this time I felt even worse about lying. I told myself if he asks me one more time I will not lie. And so destiny had it. Dad did ask me, yet a third time in a strangely comforting way. “Howard. I will ask you one last time. Did you take a piece of licorice”? I replied, “Yes Dad, I did”. Dad said, “Okay Howard. Now, go ahead and have another piece”. Dad’s loving message has held for a lifetime.
And our mother had her ways too. One day when we lived in Oklahoma, Mom came upon a homeless man while walking down the sidewalk in town. He asked her if she could spare any money and our mother gave the man a couple dollars. He was very grateful and said that he would be using the money for food, not liquor. Mom and the homeless man parted ways, and as Mom turned to watch the man slowly make his way down the sidewalk, he turned and went straight into the closest liquor store. That didn’t bother Mom. She smiled, as our mother knew she had brought some unexpected joy to a stranger in need of a bit of kindness. Mom had a gift - a way of helping those less fortunate. She derived great enjoyment by lending an unexpected helping hand and bringing a smile to the faces of strangers.
These childhood experiences and many others are now distinct memories that have lasted all through my adulthood. We all have some special memories of times shared with our mother and father and how they touched each of our lives.
RECENT YEARS: One day in the late summer of 2016 just months before Dad died, I was in the midst of kayaking on the local lake and decided to call Dad from my cell phone just to chat. We talked for over an hour about everything - politics, family, his electric shaver, and more. It was great and so memorable to this day. A special time, just months before he unexpectedly died. I think about that conversation often.
With Dad’s death in December 2016 it caught everyone off guard, especially our mother. She would be living by herself for the first time in her life at the age of 95, at Brandywine. It took Mom a few months to get settled but she did just that and never once complained. During one of my visits with Mom, she remarked that this change in her life took courage and strength that she never knew she had. Mom said that she had to dig deep to find this inner quality that had never been put to test. I told Mom I was very proud of her. One beautiful day we were walking together outside in the Brandywine courtyard. Mom paused for a moment, turned and said, “You know, I kind of like having my own place like this”. Though I know Mom missed Dad dearly, she was truly trying to make the best of her life now. It made me very happy to hear her say this.
These last three months have been difficult, not being able to see our mother due to the Coronavirus and phone conversations were quite difficult. Yet as I discovered in hearing of Mom’s final days, she was in good spirits, alert, conversing, and good humor. It is so comforting to know that even without her immediate family present, Mom DID have her own network at Brandywine with whom she derived happiness and comfort at the end.
Life is not infinite. As a little boy, I once calculated that Mom and Dad, born in 1921, would be 78 years old at the time of the new millennium. I wondered – would they make it? Yes, they did both reach that milestone, and many years well beyond. In recent years my brothers and I would remark on occasion how lucky we were that we could have Mom and Dad with us for so long and in relatively good health. It was a true blessing, and that our parents too, could still share in each other’s happiness and life experiences.
I have often wondered if Mom and Dad, during that night in 1939 when they met, thought they might have children together, celebrate in happiness, share in sadness, and spend a lifetime of so many experiences with each other, married for 72 years. Now, after a short departure, they are together once more. Still separate people as they were during their lives, but also side by side once again. Though life is only finite, lasting memories, lessons learned, and wisdom gained can be passed on forever.