Distressing news from Charlotte: my mother Ruth is in hospice after a horrendously painful bout of cellulitis. Someone who have lived so long and generously does not deserve such suffering. We hope her time with us will be at least comfortable. When I last spoke to her, she sounded weak but lucid, surrounded by Leah, my sister, and her spouse, Terri. We are thankful for that and for them to comfort and support her.
It is a time to reflect on the breadth of her life. She was born in 1911. She remembers the influenza epidemic of 1918 that took her brother Ignaz's life aboard a troop ship returning from Europe's battle field. She remembers the depression, when her father Max lost 'the jewelry store', and World War II, Korea, Vietnam...so many wars.
She spent 50 years as secretary to our local temple. Judaism was always the focal point of our family. She raised three sons and a daughter, all of whom, a bit battered and worse for wear, will survive her.
One hundred two years.