Rivkie Altein Strasberg wrote:
Rabbi & Mrs. Nadoff were so in tune with each other and both such special people. You don't meet people like that now-a-days. They really respected one another and cared for each other and were an inspiration for us all.
Rabbi Nadoff waited up for us on Friday nights if we went out ( I felt really bad about that) so that Mrs. Nadoff could go to sleep. He made sure that we helped Mrs. Nadoff (after supper with clearing etc.), b/c she would never ask us and he didn't want her to have to work so hard. They did everything in such a caring and loving way and and you could feel it in you. Mrs. Nadoff had the warmest blue eyes that just smiled at you and could touch you with a look. Rabbi Nadoff always chose his words so carefully so as not to hurt anyone. We all really lost 2 very special treasures...
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Zeidy
I wanted to write something about Zeidy, but nothing I can write feels good enough. I would just like to repeat what Zeidy told me about Bubby a"h.
It was Motzei Shabbos of Shiva. Everyone was going to get up on Sunday, but I couldn't muster the courage to actually be menachem avel Zeidy. It was just too hard.
Time was passing, and I was pushing it off. Suddenly, I noticed Zeidy get up. He was on his way to bed. It was now or never. Uncle Dovi encouraged me to go. I followed Zeidy into the kitchen.
I still had no idea what to say. What can anyone say to comfort an 80-year-old man who has just lost his wife of 55 years?
Tentatively, I approached Zeidy. I cleared my throat. "Um, Zeidy, I still never got to actually say the words..."
I didn't have to finish my sentence. Zeidy turned, pulled out one of the tall black breakfast chairs, and sat down at the movable island. I sat down next to him and took his hand.
"Hamakon yinachem eschem bsoch sha'ar evlei tziyon v'yerushalayim." I could barely choke out the words.
We sat there, holding hands, and I had no idea what to say. Zeidy understood. This man, a man of so few words, knew that it was hard for me to speak, so he took the first plunge.
"She left us with fine, fine memories." I looked into Zeidy's glistening eyes, and I knew that as hard as this was for him, he was ready to let go for Bubby's sake.
We sat a little while longer. Zeidy was telling me that as hard as it is, we have to be strong. I don't remember anything that I said, but what struck me was that Zeidy was looking beyond the final stage, back to the beautiful memories that will remain ours to cherish. And Zeidy radiated real strength, being strong was not just an expression.
So now, as we mourn Zeidy, all I can think about is that last one-on-one conversation I had in person with him. And I am comforted. I know that the pain might not disappear so quickly, but I also know that the memories will stick will us even longer. And the memories are good ones.
If anyone has memories of Zeidy, please share them so we can all benefit from them.
It was Motzei Shabbos of Shiva. Everyone was going to get up on Sunday, but I couldn't muster the courage to actually be menachem avel Zeidy. It was just too hard.
Time was passing, and I was pushing it off. Suddenly, I noticed Zeidy get up. He was on his way to bed. It was now or never. Uncle Dovi encouraged me to go. I followed Zeidy into the kitchen.
I still had no idea what to say. What can anyone say to comfort an 80-year-old man who has just lost his wife of 55 years?
Tentatively, I approached Zeidy. I cleared my throat. "Um, Zeidy, I still never got to actually say the words..."
I didn't have to finish my sentence. Zeidy turned, pulled out one of the tall black breakfast chairs, and sat down at the movable island. I sat down next to him and took his hand.
"Hamakon yinachem eschem bsoch sha'ar evlei tziyon v'yerushalayim." I could barely choke out the words.
We sat there, holding hands, and I had no idea what to say. Zeidy understood. This man, a man of so few words, knew that it was hard for me to speak, so he took the first plunge.
"She left us with fine, fine memories." I looked into Zeidy's glistening eyes, and I knew that as hard as this was for him, he was ready to let go for Bubby's sake.
We sat a little while longer. Zeidy was telling me that as hard as it is, we have to be strong. I don't remember anything that I said, but what struck me was that Zeidy was looking beyond the final stage, back to the beautiful memories that will remain ours to cherish. And Zeidy radiated real strength, being strong was not just an expression.
So now, as we mourn Zeidy, all I can think about is that last one-on-one conversation I had in person with him. And I am comforted. I know that the pain might not disappear so quickly, but I also know that the memories will stick will us even longer. And the memories are good ones.
If anyone has memories of Zeidy, please share them so we can all benefit from them.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Mazal Tov, Mazal Tov!!
Mazal Tov twice to the Chinn family!!
Mazal Tov to Menachem Abba and Ruti on the birth of Miriam Baila Chinn.
Mazal Tov to Chaim and Chaya Leah on the birth of Miriam Baila Rivlin.
May the two cousins grow up to be just like their namesake and bring lots of nachas to the whole family.
P.S: If anyone has pics, please post them or email then to me so that I can post.
Mazal Tov to Menachem Abba and Ruti on the birth of Miriam Baila Chinn.
Mazal Tov to Chaim and Chaya Leah on the birth of Miriam Baila Rivlin.
May the two cousins grow up to be just like their namesake and bring lots of nachas to the whole family.
P.S: If anyone has pics, please post them or email then to me so that I can post.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
