By the grandchildren
With his hands he built furniture, made fur coats and fished up all the lakes. With his heart he grew and loved a family of two daughters and two sons, nine grandchildren and four great grandchildren. Each and every one of these people adored him. Each and every one of us admired him for his wisdom, his gentle loving ways, his commitment and dedication to his family. He was the elder, the leader of this family. He taught us right from wrong. He taught us to think and behave like "menchen". He taught us a sense of humour - how to laugh with each other. From him we learned what "family" meant. From him we learnt how to wrap a package properly with plenty of string and elastic. I remember hiding in the front closet when he came home from work. He was surprised EVERY single time! I remember dentyne gum in his shirt pocket. I remember the smell of fur on his hands. And oh, those hands... they were HUGE! Nobody had hands like his. We were fascinated with the size of his hands. And speaking of fascination, Lynn was fascinated with the size of his nose. At about age 3 she said, with an enormous amount of adoration, a gleam in her eye, and the sweetest, most innocent smile: "Zaidie you have the biggest nose in the who-o-o-le world!" And my favorite memory - singing "dyenu" while sitting on his lap to help complete the seder.
I would sit on his lap while he sang yiddish songs, the warmth and love I felt will stay with me my whole life long. Bubby got all the credit for her wonderful food, when in fact Zaidie was the one who made sure it was great. He tasted it for us before it got to the plate.
The last years of his life were very bitter sweet, without the love of his life, Fera, he felt incomplete.
His great grandchildren were his only sunshine during the last few years, their faces brought him smiles, and their shenanegans brought him laughter to tears. He never showed anybody a picture of his grandkids. Never. Because a picture is worth a thousand words. And he'd rather use a thousand words.
Zaidie Abie was a gentleman. A real gentleman! He was our leader, the elder, a great man.
It makes me sad to know, that three of the four great grandchildren who made the last years of his life worth living, won't remember how great he really was.
How can we have a seder without our Zaidie?
How can we sing dayenu without our Zaidie?
We can, and we will! Because we must carry on!
We will keep his memory alive in our hearts, and in our minds, so that they will know, and remember him.
He would want his einiklach's lives to be filled with all the joyful family traditions that he so treasured.
No words can describe the love that we feel.
The great Zaidie Abie, please rest in peace.
We Love You!!!
Speech at Unveiling
Often when I listen to an official eulogy, I feel uncomfortable. Especially when the person delivering the eulogy did not personally know the deceased. However, in our customary funeral and dedication services, the professional is chosen because of his position (rabbi) of official spokesman.
I thought of this earlier this week, when I made preparations for the few words I have to say today.
First of all, I am speaking of a person that was close to me as a relative, and a person whose family is also close to me. Here was a simple man,, a man wholly devoted to his family, and an example of integrity in his feelings.
Before he was married to my Aunt Fera, he used to say to me, after I am married you will call me "uncle". I said, no, you will be my uncle even though I will not use that title. In our family we do not use titles, we use names, and the names reflect the closeness that exists between that individual and ourselves. During the building of Silka and Al’s dream house in the country, Uncle Abie had a significant role in helping them build. He was "the manager", the "advisor", and while often his advice was not necessarily accepted, his input was there, and was reflected in the respect and love shown to him by all the children, big and small.
I recall an incident, shortly before he died, which reflected the respect and love Abie had for his "nephew", who refused to call him "uncle".
I was visiting the family in the country, and Abe was already then not feeling well. After lunch, he went to lie down. Later that afternoon (it was in winter) I decided to leave. Abe was asleep and I did not think it proper to wake him. The following evening, I received a phone call from Abie in which he apologized profusely for not saying good-bye to me. I insisted that no apology was needed and I knew he would have said good-bye to me. Yet he insisted that he should have been woken to say good-bye to me. Shortly after this incident he died. I was moved by his concern to say good-bye to me, and it proved to me, again, the gentleness of his character, and the feelings he had for his family.
We never say good-bye to our loved ones when they depart from this world. We only say, rest in peace, and may your memory forever be a blessing.
Issie Nachshen
November 6, 1996