Glittering blue eyes stare me in the face, as they tell the tale of accomplishment and meaning-a journey now done,
As they now leave me to start a great mission telling me so powerfully-He is the One!
The message that she so badly wanted, and did everything she could, to let the world know,
Her very “last words” that will ring in our ears forever of, “Ain od milvado”
…Bubby, I just keep thinking of those Shabbos and Yom Tov afternoons, when you turned from bubby to babysitter, with your arms stretched out wide,
Hovering over each grandchild as you read all your entertaining stories sad and funny, as we laughed and cried.
And you’d get all dramatic and play and act out each and every single scene and part,
And there was always a beautiful lesson to take out, because you wrote the stories from way deep in your heart.
Where you wanted to give over to the children the lessons to the adults, so you presented them in a fairytale way,
Once again using your unique creativity to come and let us know what you really wanted to say,
And even though I was a child, the messages were so clear, it was Hashem to Whom I owed all my blessings big and small,
Making sure to carry out every order of His whether very short or very tall,
And I always waited impatiently, my favorite part, was to hear the beautiful song,
And then with all our feelings and emotions from the story, all together we’d sing along…
Bubby, I remember pulling up so vividly the steep driveway of 1617 Shady,
To of course, no matter what the time of day, be greeted by at the top by my smiling Bubby and Zeidy,
And at 3 am without fail there was always spaghetti out piping hot,
And the soup would be bubbling sitting all ready, in the huge tall pot,
And Bubby would serve each one with a smile, as if it were bright and early in the morning,
When you should have been in bed for a long time, dreaming and snoring,
And as we’d compliment you on the delicious food, you’d brush it away, saying, “enjoy in good health” which of course we did,
And then after that, I’d look forward to run into the basement loft-where I hid,
Where I’d play with all my cousins in our little cut off world down there,
And your pattering footsteps throughout the whole night, I would always hear,
Making food for the next batch of grandchildren at 4 am that came,
Greeting them all with enthusiasm and a big smile, each was special and got the same.
And during the intervals of each family that trotted in, instead of taking a break,
You’d stay up with all the babies throughout the night, so their tired parents shouldn’t wake,
And when we’d wake up, there was always a sweet “good morning” and another tip of advice, from Bubby who knew it all,
She could solve every problem, and had a solution for everything, big or small,
And she knew how to speak directly to your neshama, so it could really hear,
All the messages she wanted to give, with her hand over your shoulder, as she said “my dear”…
And then she’d learn some Pirkei Avos with us, and tehillim to follow,
And only then our Shabbos party we would deserve, and our candies we could swallow.
And then Erev Shabbos I’d watch you make kibeh, as you made tons and tons- of course “no big deal”
And then you’d make and prepare, the best and yummiest Bubby Miriam meal,
And invite all those who needed, for everyone was family, whoever needed a home,
In a sheltered place with an open door, for all to gracefully roam,
A place where peace and harmony filled and thickened the air,
And the Simchas Hachaim and true happiness, you could literally hear,
Where all felt welcome, there was always always more than enough space,
And if you were out of bedrooms for the night, the sukka was a happening place,
And if we needed anything we knew to find Bubby, saying tehillim on the couch with all her might,
Or in the kitchen making delicious food, in case anyone needed another bite…
Bubby… I still don’t know what a grandmother means, my friends tell me it’s someone who buys them presents,
I ask them if it’s someone who also takes in all the lonely and feeds all the peasants,
And always has a good line to share with all who come her way,
And always has a gentle warm hug to make someone’s day,
And stays up doing all her work, when no one sees, in the dark of night,
But Bubby, I’m sorry, sometimes I woke up and saw you, you couldn’t hide, your face was too bright,
And it stood out even when you thought all were in their dreams fast asleep,
It was in those times I learned the most and stored those memories so deep-
Bubby-thanks for leaving me the beautiful and detailed stencil of yourself, that I hope to attempt to trace,
I’m still no sure I’ll be able to, because I’ve never drawn an angelic face,
… Or huge ears that knew how to listen to silence, as they filled up with everyone’s painful tears,
… Or eyes with strength and a pumping heart, that will continue to look me in the eye for years and years.
… So, if I’m having trouble drawing, will the master artist help me in her humble way, as she has always done,
Using those same tears, to cry and plead, for now you’re so close to the Holy One,
And beg him to make your dream and wish finally at last just come true,
“To walk hand in hand in our holy land” as a privileged and confident Jew,
And “To walk in the ways of our fathers (and mothers)” for now you my Bubby are one of those,
Who I’m fortunate to tell the world I’m a proud and lucky grandchild of one of our special heroes.
- a granchild
