Edgartown, Martha’s Vineyard, MA, August 4, 2013
Two a.m. phone calls on vacation are never good news. And so last Sunday morning began. It was not unexpected given the events of the last few weeks. After another emergency trip to Florida, I saw my Dad after a heart attack and with my siblings helped him make a decision regarding risky balloon angioplasty.
He survived the hospital and was going through rehab to get him home and back to his usual independent self. He was doing great. Just the day before had a “terrific” day, breathing “great”, and “getting great care” in the cardiac rehab hospital. But I knew it would be soon. He had stopped eating. Lost 30 pounds. The rally before the end.
No time to let it sink in. Calls to be made. People informed about the funeral the following day. Gutterman’s Funeral Services had to be contracted to fly the body back from Florida to New Montefiore Cemetary in Farmingdale, Long Island, NY. He would be buried along side my Mom.
We got on a plane from Martha’s Vineyard and headed to the “other” Island (Long Island) where I had grown up, where my father had lived most of his life. The next day greeted our gloom with beautiful weather. Aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, siblings, friends, mother-in-law, two of our three children, and my husband held us up during this most painful time.
Almost everyone there had known him practically their whole life. The speeches were from the heart, authentic and very comforting. I didn’t have to tell anyone about his great smile, how happy he was, and how much he made a difference in so many people’s lives.
They remembered how much he loved my mother, business and golf. How he had fought to change the “blue laws” in Suffolk County. How he helped my Uncle Murray (my mother’s brother) through medical school both emotionally and financially. How he was there fighting for my Mom’s heart transplant in Houston while he lost his restaurants in New York City.
The traditional meal of consolation after the cemetery was graciously hosted by my mother-in-law. Helping us remember the good times, the visitors told stories about Milton. His smile. The twinkle in his eye. His good humor. The evening, though sad, went quickly.
We left the next day for MV where I sat shivaah (meaning 7 days) contemplating the life my father lived and what he had given to me and my family. Several vineyard friends visited and brought food. I prayed at the Martha’s Vineyard Hebrew Center. I spoke on the phone to many friends and family. Each conversation gave me an opportunity to remember him and what he taught me–to always push myself harder, never to give up, and to push on against all odds when you know you are right.
As I got up from Shivah Sunday morning, I thought about how we announced the death of loved ones during the days of print journalism–a few lines in the local paper. Our mobile society and digital on-line communication has made that forum obsolete. So here it is–we mourn the death as we also celebrate the life of my father, Milton Brodsky, 1928-2013.
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14 Comments
Linda,
I am sorry to hear of the loss of your father, I enjoyed reading your blog entry. What a sweet blessing to have such a father for all these years. Thank you for sharing your experience, thoughts and feelings. You and your family will be in my thoughts and my prayers.
Dana
My deepest sympathy for the loss of your beloved father. You wrote such a beautiful tribute to him.
DR.Drodsky
I am very sorry to hear of the passing of your father. I am sure you have great memories. Please let me know if i can do anything for you and your family
We. Are so sorry to hear of your loss .. You are in our thoughts at this time .
We read your blog ,you have wonderful memories of your Father.
We are thinking of you here in Buffalo.
Love and Shalom,
Ina and Herb
Dear Linda, So sorry to hear about your dad but a life well lived! Never easy to lose a loved one but memories will be with you always! Hugs, Ellen
The Benson-Guterman family offers their sincerest sympathy for your loss. Lee and I have both been there and will never forget it, a life changing event.
May you be comforted by the mourners of Zion…..
So sorry for your loss, may your memories always bring you comfort.
Dear Linda,
One of the things I love about Judaism is the ritual of sitting shivah for the very reasons you mentioned. Your father was no doubt proud of you for never giving up when you knew you were right. If he was anything close to the fighter you are, well, watch out world. Your children were fortunate to have known him for so long. His stories will continue into the future for many, many years to come.
All my love, Sarita
Linda,
I am sorry to hear of your loss and I am thinking of you as you grieve. Thank you for sharing.
Diana
Linda,
So sorry for your loss. Feeling fortunate your parents raised such a wonderful daughter still called friend after meeting as classmates so long ago.
thank you all for reaching out to me, here and in my emails. It is amazing how many people whose lives touch ours and who bring back good memories and feelings that help to sustain us when loss has occurred and our tank is running low.
So sorry, but thank you again for writing about your father.
Ah, Linda. I am so sorry. My dad was Milton also and I miss him every day. May his memory be a blessing.
I’m so sorry to hear of your enormous loss, Linda. I remember meeting both your parents so very, very many years ago at some BMC event. They were so (rightly) proud of “Our Daughter, Linda”. Sympathetic thoughts coming your way.
Janet Brunner Cramer