Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Hesped (Eulogy) for My Father

For several years, I used to think how I would honor my father in a hesped...what stories I would tell, what descriptions I would use.

But when it came time, the morning of March 8th, to write the words, I decided that less is more. Sure I could tell anecdotes galore -- who can't!? -- but my father was a simple and quiet man and I knew that my choice of words would hold much strength.

My two brothers spoke, and my first cousin who flew in from NY also spoke. In essence, we each said the same things, without having consulted one another. That is a true indicator that we spoke the truth, and those things we chose to say, reflect the beautiful legacy that my father left us with.

Here is the hesped I said:

Eesh Taam v’yashar. A man who lived his life straight and with great morals and integrity.

He valued and lived by common decency, strong Jewish traditions and a deep Kavanah/
faith in Hashem, hard work and a rich family life. My father was a firm believer in hachnasat orchim – the welcoming of guests – and he and my mother were open-armed to everyone.

Generous with all he had, always giving – rarely, if ever, receiving. Always trying to better life for his wife, for his children, while at the same time content with his lot. He chose to never move to a bigger house or buy big-ticket items and it was rare for him to reward himself in any way.

He raised us on shmirat ha-lashon – staying clear of slander or gossip. A few years ago, the wife of one of my father’s best friends told me, “I never heard your dad say a bad word about anyone.” To me, that was the greatest compliment because I knew it was true.

Loved by children, friends, family, and customers, my father was a charming, decent and kind man whose reputation preceded him in every way.

Although he was hospitalized several times over the years, for serious and lengthy stays, he managed to endure, my mother closely at his side. When asked “How do you feel?” he responded with “Not too bad, thank you.” His attitude and survivor mentality always came with the tag line “Let’s hope for the best.” And together, we always did!

Michael’s friend, Salem Alaton, left a beautiful note in the online memorial book. It describes my father very well. I quote: “Jacob endured so much in his life with great strength and fortitude, creating a richly fulfilling environment for his young family after the horrors of Europe. A life lived as a tremendous act of defiance in the wake of the senseless hatreds that took away so much from him.”

To extend on that, I want to read a poem I wrote and published a few years ago. It gave me great pleasure to have my father hear me read the poem at a public reading because this poem represents his life.



THE PLUM TREE


i.
Young boy – a son and brother –
You are a mentor and protector
to so many. Uprooted at an early age –
father deceased, mother struggling to raise
a young family.

ii.
The streets of your village
are awash with scholars
who study with the great rebbe –
Talmud, Mishnah, Chumash, Halacha.
You peer through the dusty cheder windows,
longing to join them.
You are too young yet.
And yet, you are too old…
The branch that your mother
and siblings cling to for support.
You must bear fruit for the others,
and labor to do so.

iii.
Nature can be merciless at times,
giving and then taking away,
wiping out traces of life and beauty.
In time, a dreadful storm comes,
wiping out that cheder, that village…
your dear ones.

iv.
But you, thank God,
have been able to root temporarily
in other places.
And slowly, slowly, you awaken
after that harsh, stormy winter.
Weakened, you are warmed by the sun;
your fragility begins to heal.
And you are replanted yet again.

v.
A husband. A father.
A mentor and protector once more.
You move silently into your verdant garden and kneel,
shovel and soil beside you.
You recall Leviticus 19:23.
“And when you arrive in the land, plant all manner of fruit trees…”

vi.
You are giving back to the earth,
Enriching it with new life. A plum tree.
Roots clinging to the cool earth, the tree grows,
flourishes…its branches strong.
Over time it bears fruit, and more fruit.
You harvest from its sweet gifts –
again and again,
repeating the cycle each year.

And you remember your roots…

vii.
“And he shall be like a tree planted by
the rivers of water,
that bringeth forth his fruit in his season;
his leaf also shall not wither;
and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.”

Psalms 1:3



[and then I ad-libbed and said something like:]

Since I was a little girl, my father and I had a sign-off, “Me-la-la,” which means “I love you.”

[I looked at the coffin at this point]

“Me-la-la, Dad. May you rest in peace.”

9 comments:

Sharon said...

Pearl,

I was moved to tears by your eloquent,loving tribute to your father. Thank you for sharing this.

Sharon

Anonymous said...

Pearl,
As a friend who was fortunate to come to the hesped and hear everyone speak, the one thing both David and I took home with us was the one point all of you spoke about, you were b'h raised in a "home". Material goods were of minor significance. It is with this value that I hope that as parents we can imbue into our household.
May your memories help serve you as strength and comfort.
Sharona

cruisin-mom said...

thank you for sharing that Pearl. Really lovely

Elie said...

Pearl:

So sorry I haven't been reading for a couple of weeks, and just saw these posts about your dad's passing! Your words here are so beautiful and fitting. May God comfort you amongst the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.

Arrrteest said...

Dear Pearl:
I am deeply moved by your father's story and the way you have honored him. May you find comfort in these times. His life will live on in your writing and in the hearts of others.

rabbi neil fleischmann said...

Wow. The part that hit me hardest was "me-la-la". Every family has it's own language of love. You wrote and I'm sure spoke so forthrightly. Your decision to speak briefly was wise, truth is best served that way (like in a talk on Yom Kippur), through straightforward statements, leaving the drush on the side. What you said/wrote smacks of perfection. May you be blessed with nechama from G-d.

torontopearl said...

Thank you all for your comments and warm sentiments. They all come in handy at a difficult time like this.
May we only share simchas!

Minnesota Mamaleh said...

pearl, thanks for pointing me towards these posts. they're all beautiful (as i expected them to be), but this one. this one has me in tears (again!). i feel your sadness, and send you good thoughts. but i also feel pride and strength from and for you. you used your words (your gift, really) to help your own and others mourning, processing, show respect, love and adoration. you did good, lady.

Tali said...

I stumbled upon your blog - you are an inspiring writer and poet. Your love, sensitivity and emotion are powerfully evident! Thank you for sharing this.