The second of Av was the yahrzeit for my beloved mother, Gittel bas Meyer Eliezer, z”l, Gertrude Magill, may she rest in peace. Although she left this world 32 years ago today, I still feel her presence every day and am inspired by her legacy of giving and gratitude. I look at her picture every morning before I go to work.
Yesterday I gave a talk about her to a ladies’ class I organize in my synagogue. I said so much about her, but I want to focus on one event, something I had not given too much thought to over the years, until yesterday.
It was July of 1993, and my mother was in Albert Einstein North Hospital Hospice in Philadelphia, the same hospital I was born in nearly 40 years prior. She had dramatically beaten the odds of outliving the predictions of doctors from her three cancers and had remained a grateful and giving person. And the One Above gave her many very happy occasions to get it, even if the doctors didn’t understand how she was there.
Now back to July of 1993 in the hospice. She would only have about a week more to be in this world. But she was not one to give in to how she felt. Each day was to be LIVED. Each day, you could make a difference. (Before my mother went into hospice she was knitting a sweater for a baby with AIDS.)
But on this hot July day, she asked me if I could buy a birthday card for her social worker. They had bonded. They had laughed. They were friends. I bought my mother the card and wrote in it what she wanted. I can still see her handing the card to the worker and the look of surprise on her face. And as she read the card with a big smile on her face, I looked at my mother and since she was in a recliner she had to lift her head up to see the worker. And I am crying as I write this. My mother had the sweetest smile on her face as she was SO happy that the social worker was happy with what she had received. Overjoyed.
Three diseases could not stop my mother. They never had a chance. She LIVED and was a giver until the last moment she passed from this world to a better world.
And my mother even gave after she passed away. Soon after she gave that card to the social worker, my mother said to me, “When I get out of here, I want to throw a party for all the nice people here to thank them for all they did for me.” A week after her funeral, that party did take place. I spoke with the head nurse, and explained my mother’s desire to express gratitude. A few days later, anyone who would have walked into the nurse’s lounge would have seen streamers and balloons and ice cream cake and soda. And all of the staff who enjoyed this unexpected treat knew who it came from. And they KNEW who they had been taking care of.
May my mother’s memory be a blessing.
P.S. Two weeks after her passing, my brother handed me a birthday card from my mother. The remarkable thing was that although I was very grateful, it didn’t surprise me at all.
