Category: Daughter

My father [Leonard Meyer] continues to be a phenomenon. Physically he is a heap of aches, pains and decrepitude, but mentally he is so sharp I sometimes quail at what he will come out with next. He still gets out of the house by 7 a.m. daily, (except Saturday, the only day he stays home all day) drives to his office and stays there till about noon. Then goes to the Jewish Center Health Club for whatever exercise he feels up to (5 minutes on the bicycle, 5 minutes on the treadmill, 10-15 minutes lifting weights) but mostly to shmooze with or listen to the other people. He hangs out there till about 4 in the afternoon. (I suspect he may nap there, too), then comes home, fixes his dinner and watches TV. He starts with the news, (Jim Lehrer), then goes to A&E Biography, then to an old movie. By 9 he’s fallen asleep in his recliner. At about 11 pm he wakes, goes to his bedroom and reads and naps thru the night.

A cleaning lady comes every Thursday, and his man, Matt, age 66, who was his auto mechanic for the meat packing plant, comes Wed., Thurs., and Fri., mornings. Those days they cut the grass (My Dad rides the mower, Matt whacks the edges), weed the tomato patch, make repairs around the house, go grocery shopping, and whatever errands need doing by car. His house is immaculate and in perfect condition. This spring he had the entire front of the house re-landscaped. Pulled out every old bush and had new ones planted, all watered by drip irrigation!

Daddy —
On this your 93rd birthday, I have only these words for gift: I love you dearly, deeply and truly. Always have, always will. The greatest blessing of my life is that I had you and mother for parents.

Two years ago I wrote about the “truths my mother taught me.” I have lately distilled the most essential of all the truths you have taught me. The first I remember is: If you start something, finish it. From that flowed the others: Make order out of chaos whenever possible. Make a profit, but make it honestly. Never forsake your family. A good name is the highest achievement.

For your continual generosity and for your genes of intelligence and discipline, I thank you with all my heart. For your life and your love, I thank God. shehekhiyanu…

Presented by Bernice Meyer Saltzman
to the Jewish Women’s Club of Richmond VA
Tuesday, February 28, 1995

One of the blessings of being sixty-something is that you are in the position of learning from people both older and younger than you. Recently the young 39-year-old Rabbi Simeon Glaser of my synagogue in West Hartford titled his shabbat sermon, “Truths My Father Taught Me.” I quickly saw a variation of this title as appropriate for my presentation to the Jewish Women’s Club. I also liked the title because “Truths” contains my mother’s name (Ruth Meyer).

My rabbi’s father, Rabbi Joseph Glaser, had died at age 69 two months before his son gave this sermon. I think this particular sermon, not in any way a eulogy but rather a loving exposition of his father’s ideals, advice and actions, may have been part of my rabbi’s grief-healing process.

My mother died a year and a half ago at age 85. My grieving process actually began about two years before she died, when I saw her becoming very frail and started to think what life would be like without her. From that time I began sorting and organizing with her during my visits, her vast collection of memorabilia and photographs, a joint project that gave her much pleasure. (Ruth was probably the only teenager of her generation who owned and used a box camera and she saved everything!). I’ve continued the sorting and organizing on visits since her death. It’s an activity that keeps her present in my life and made it easy for me to accept the invitation to speak to this group because so much of what she saved relates to the JWC. I believe that this presentation marks the end of my grief-healing process. Its preparation has been an opportunity to think about, without grief or sadness, what my mother taught me about Judaism and about living.

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November 9, 1993
My next trip to Richmond will be in late February. I’ve been asked to give a lecture to the Jewish Women’s Club on February 28 (dedicated to Ruth Meyer, a founded of the JWC). I’ve given two talks to that group in the past. One was a review of Doctor Zhivago (about 30 years ago or whenever the book came out). In the other, I read a paper I had written for my Genesis 1-11 class at Trinity (one of my best!). That was about 15 years ago. The reason I did that one was because Nana, who usually did at least one book review a year, didn’t feel up to doing one that year, and so she substituted the next best thing!

March 9, 1994
Returned from my week in Richmond on Monday and can report that it was “a glorious week” (Boss’ words!) My speech to the Jewish Women’s Club on Tuesday 2/20 was very successful. The 40 or more women (and Albert Wasserman) were extremely attentive. Many spoke afterwards about Ruth and about the history of the club. Many came to me afterwards to hug me if they knew me. One who never met me but knew Nana said “I should have known Ruth would have a daughter like you.”

November 9, 1994
I feel so blessed that many years before Nana died we had reconciled all of our differences, that we loved and admired each other, and told each other so in many, many ways. I feel that the way I have honored her this past year has been a privilege as well as a spiritual gift I didn’t expect.

It’s very difficult talking to Boss on the phone. He’s obviously very lonely. If I ask him too many questions he says I’m bugging him. “Ya’ll stop worryin’ about me, f’crissake! I’m very anxious to spend some time with him. It used to be that I related to him better on the phone than in person. It’s dawned on me that in the last few years we do much better face to face than over the phone. I’ll have to think about why this is so.

I occasionally say, when talking about my parents to friends, that my mother and father are the longest married, incompatible couple I know. It’s really a flippant way to boast about the example they are to all of us – of survival in the face of hardships and problems, of loyalty to family, of respect for individual needs and drives, of unconditional love for children and grandchildren at every stage of our lives. They are the rock upon which all of us can build enduring values.

I accomplished so much at the beach. Cleaned out every closet and almost every drawer; washed and returned to their places all the chotchkes, pictures and books … I threw away enormous amounts of junk.

The first weekend Boss saw what I was doing. “You’re merciless,” he said. We came across an ancient Polaroid camera and agreed to discard it. But he decided to open it first. Then he couldn’t get it closed. He sat at the table fooling with it determined to get it closed. Finally he did and then said, “Now you can throw it away.”

When he returned home on Monday, he immediately called and said, “I forgot my cap. Please don’t throw it away!”

Handwritten note in greeting card

For May 10, 1970 [Mother’s Day]

When I begin to think about
the length and breadth and depth
of my own wisdom.
I wonder how I acquired it.
It begins with “Mother.”

Food and drink have not much taste
when one is not hungry or thirsty.
Whence my hunger and thirst for learning?
My mother.

You never said, “Do good deeds. Love your fellow man. Serve God.”
You have always done so.

“My birth,” I once asked, “Did it hurt you?”
“Yes,” you answered, “until they put you in my arms.”
I trusted this and three times confirmed it profoundly true.

Of facts and ways I’ve stored up much
but meanings reach out from one early touchstone:
My mother.

Body and spirt flower healthy and strong
watered with tears and
freely fed by the sunlight of love.

Life begins and life endures
in the presence of pain, with joy
always hovering by.

Knowledge, God willing, I will continue to acquire
but the wisdom you taught will always inspire.

God bless you and keep you.
I love you.
Bernice