Remembering Mom

I feel so lost in a way I never felt before.

If there was anyone central to the family, my mom was it. I counted on her to find out about everyone, and getting her opinion most of the time, like while writing this, going over details.

And she would go all out when she felt something was important, like Friday night dinners, visiting my grandparents, being president of Sisterhood, volunteering with the Israeli army, and most recently decorating her door so nobody would forget the hostages. She and her door even made it on TV.

Here’s a little secret. For those of you old enough to remember my bar mitzvah, who do you think wrote my incredible speech?.. or all the poems for the candle-lighting ceremony at the party?

She wouldn’t let me fail, but she was tough and had expectations. She forced me to listen to her read to me, when I had to study and didn’t feel like it, which was more often than not.

And I could write a chapter on her attempts to get me to eat. Or drink milk. Stop biting my nails. Turn off the TV and play outside. Everything she did was despite giving me new brothers and a sister over the years.

But I know I made her proud, from graduating, visiting TV stations, and even sharing stories of creepy people on Florida Freaks.

Later, when I was teaching down here, she drove to the school every week to help some of the slower students read. She actually taught me how to teach by being the example, since I never took an education class in college, or interned.

Luckily, with an empty nest, she was able to play mahjongg and enjoy being a Bubbe.

But she deserved better after spending years taking care of my father, going down to the nursing home every single day, and making sure he had extra help when she couldn’t be there.

She also packed up the entire huge house after 50 years, sure with some help, but without anybody living there at the time, planning what should go where, and what should be in storage or thrown out. I think you understand.

That led to something extremely happy, and that was her time at the Vi. It was the best decision she could’ve made, and I enjoyed visiting and meeting her friends. She knew everyone by name.

She was looking forward to a family cruise in August to celebrate her milestone birthday from February.

If there’s any consolation, it’s what she said after losing her own mother 33 years ago. She got 20 extra years after her mother’s heart attack, and we got 21 extra years after she was so sick.

2003 and 2004 were rotten. They were so bad, I even moved to Florida to be there. There were a lot of doctors, a lot of medications, and a lot of time, but she pulled through, even when she didn’t think she would. And she did what she had to do.

I already miss asking how she’s doing, telling her all about her four-legged grandchildren, and filling her in on Trump’s latest crimes.

Tina Cohen is an impossible act to follow.

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Written by Lenny. Delivered by Rabbi Eliezer Wolf.