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deckardcanineMy online activity has surely hid it well today, but I am in mourning. For the first time in earnest.
Steve Baehrman was right: comic irony has nothing on tragic irony. In the wee hours of the night after I expressed a wish for time by myself, I got my wish in a very unsavory way. Two phone calls reported my grandfather's worsening condition, inducing both my parents to get out of bed and drive to Baltimore. I awoke this morning to my dad's unanswered alarm clock. Sure enough, as I was making breakfast, my mom called to say that Pop-pop had passed away in his sleep before they arrived at the hospital. There were other tragic ironies, like the beautiful weather and the fact that I had planned to wear an "Ozy & Millie" humor tee, but only this one almost made me feel guilty.
The funeral is Wednesday at noon. He has specified that his children and their spouses sit shiva for three days instead of the typical week. Like at least two of his three other grandchildren, I expect to sit shiva for one day with his posthumous understanding. I will probably be an honorary pallbearer. There is the option of privately seeing his body; I haven't decided whether that will do me good, but I think I will do it.
Max "Scottie" Gilberg was very fortunate, not just in his peaceful death, but in his life. In spite of his youth in an immigrant family so poor that we don't know his actual birthday for lack of celebration...in spite of involvement in WWII...in spite of cardiac emergencies well predating my conception...he was still very active at 88, even daring to take a boat tour in Italy (which, in retrospect, may have sped his departure). Only his last couple weeks really showed his age. I hope his descendants get the same blessing. My dad's only regret for him is that he never went to Israel as he wanted; he was going to go for Jerusalem's 3,000th anniversary, but the outburst of violence around that time led him to cancel the trip.
In terms of personality, one distinctive feature was his penchant for jokes. Nearly every time we visited him or vice versa, he would deliver highly corny but otherwise tasteful jokes, either from a notecard or from memory, the latter more likely to be a repetition. I don't feel too bad in saying this, because he knew as much from our feedback each time. If his jokes invited a comparison to Fozzie, then his brother Meyer -- may he, too, rest in peace -- played the part of Statler and/or Waldorf.
But also like Fozzie, he came across as warm and fuzzy, charming and lovable. We appreciated his jokes as a kind of tradition. Just as importantly, he appreciated others' jokes. He may have been the biggest encouragement to my forays in humor.
The other defining feature I perceived in the man I called Pop-pop was his generosity. I used to assume he was rich due to all the expensive gifts he kept bestowing upon us (e.g., $500 for each of my birthdays starting when I turned 13). Sometimes we had to make him put the money away until there was at least a flimsy excuse for him to dig it out. I get the impression it had nothing to do with a sense that he might die soon, for as I've said, he showed little concern over his mortality until his last few weeks.
Finally, altho I never truly shared his faith, I respect and admire his devotion to it, which was greater than that of anyone else I can think of in my family. When we visited his wife's grave last week in his absence, we made a point not to pay more apiece to the shamas than he had.
Going back to last night, at my mother's suggestion (!), I prayed for him. It must have been the first serious prayer I had done in months. I prayed for him to have the best results. Maybe it worked in a way.
Goodbye, Pop-pop, my closest grandparent. You were, as we predict the rabbi will say, a gut neshome.
Steve Baehrman was right: comic irony has nothing on tragic irony. In the wee hours of the night after I expressed a wish for time by myself, I got my wish in a very unsavory way. Two phone calls reported my grandfather's worsening condition, inducing both my parents to get out of bed and drive to Baltimore. I awoke this morning to my dad's unanswered alarm clock. Sure enough, as I was making breakfast, my mom called to say that Pop-pop had passed away in his sleep before they arrived at the hospital. There were other tragic ironies, like the beautiful weather and the fact that I had planned to wear an "Ozy & Millie" humor tee, but only this one almost made me feel guilty.
The funeral is Wednesday at noon. He has specified that his children and their spouses sit shiva for three days instead of the typical week. Like at least two of his three other grandchildren, I expect to sit shiva for one day with his posthumous understanding. I will probably be an honorary pallbearer. There is the option of privately seeing his body; I haven't decided whether that will do me good, but I think I will do it.
Max "Scottie" Gilberg was very fortunate, not just in his peaceful death, but in his life. In spite of his youth in an immigrant family so poor that we don't know his actual birthday for lack of celebration...in spite of involvement in WWII...in spite of cardiac emergencies well predating my conception...he was still very active at 88, even daring to take a boat tour in Italy (which, in retrospect, may have sped his departure). Only his last couple weeks really showed his age. I hope his descendants get the same blessing. My dad's only regret for him is that he never went to Israel as he wanted; he was going to go for Jerusalem's 3,000th anniversary, but the outburst of violence around that time led him to cancel the trip.
In terms of personality, one distinctive feature was his penchant for jokes. Nearly every time we visited him or vice versa, he would deliver highly corny but otherwise tasteful jokes, either from a notecard or from memory, the latter more likely to be a repetition. I don't feel too bad in saying this, because he knew as much from our feedback each time. If his jokes invited a comparison to Fozzie, then his brother Meyer -- may he, too, rest in peace -- played the part of Statler and/or Waldorf.
But also like Fozzie, he came across as warm and fuzzy, charming and lovable. We appreciated his jokes as a kind of tradition. Just as importantly, he appreciated others' jokes. He may have been the biggest encouragement to my forays in humor.
The other defining feature I perceived in the man I called Pop-pop was his generosity. I used to assume he was rich due to all the expensive gifts he kept bestowing upon us (e.g., $500 for each of my birthdays starting when I turned 13). Sometimes we had to make him put the money away until there was at least a flimsy excuse for him to dig it out. I get the impression it had nothing to do with a sense that he might die soon, for as I've said, he showed little concern over his mortality until his last few weeks.
Finally, altho I never truly shared his faith, I respect and admire his devotion to it, which was greater than that of anyone else I can think of in my family. When we visited his wife's grave last week in his absence, we made a point not to pay more apiece to the shamas than he had.
Going back to last night, at my mother's suggestion (!), I prayed for him. It must have been the first serious prayer I had done in months. I prayed for him to have the best results. Maybe it worked in a way.
Goodbye, Pop-pop, my closest grandparent. You were, as we predict the rabbi will say, a gut neshome.
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Blessings upon you and your family.
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Mourning
First of all, I pray that you are doing better in this hour of faith testing. When a loveone, or anyone, dies with out knowing the Lord it is a tragity in the greatest sence of the word, but talk comfort in God's faithfulness. God has been faith to his people from when he first put breath into Adam. He will minister to you in ways I can only imagine in this hour of darkness.
You also may find this article helpful. http://www.jfjonline.org/pub/mm/95Spring/facts.htm
I will be praying for you and feel free to IM me.
Your brother,
Byron "CollegeZoo" Sherry
Re: Mourning
My sadness for the event is as good as over by now, tho I expect to post about a new concern shortly.
Re: Mourning