Adios, Uncle Abe

My favorite uncle died Wednesday, and I went to his funeral in Delray Beach yesterday. Abe was 88. He lived a hell of a life.

He had 2 daughters. The oldest lives in Mass, and became a hippie and never got over it. She and her husband, a dropped out school principal, grow organic vegetables, and did so before it was a cool thing to do. The youngest daughter, my cousin Janet, is a chiropractor and lives in Boca.

Abe's sons, Jeff and Michael, are my favorite cousins. Michael, 5 years older than I, was always very cool --someone I looked up to. He married his high school girlfriend Gail, and the two of them found Moses. Now they live in an orthodox community in suburban NY. Jeff took over Abe's coin laundry business and lives in Lauderdale.

Abe taught me to fish and to love Miami. Our families vacationed here together in the 70s. They were always far more adventurous than our family was --they had a big Winnebago, and took us on adventures.

My aunt Lorraine, a beauty, and my Mom's sister, died at age 68. Abe was devastated. But, as the speakers at his service reminded us, he found a second love, and married again. His widow spoke eloquently about him, and the rest of Abe's family.

I rarely saw Abe over the last 20 years. My Mother never cared for his new wife --she couldn't --the woman replaced her sister. And, like may extended families, we just all find ourselves too busy to get together.

My cousin Linda and I hugged, and Linda said, as she always does, that we HAVE to get together. She and her husband live just 30 minutes or so from us.

But, the truth is, none of us care to go to the effort of actually planning something. We like the idea of a family gathering, but no one's willing to do the lifting.

As Tony S said, what are ya gonna do?

Abe had a sweet death. He worked until last month, and went to the hospital with a bad back. They discovered he had lymphoma, and he went downhill fast. He went to hospice for a week, and just Tuesday night called his grandson Joshua close to tell him he hoped his family realized how much he loved them and cared about them. Then he lapsed into the big sleep...

Sidney Poitier's measure of a man is how he takes care of his family. We all have challenges and demons, but a real man pushes them aside and makes it good for his wife and children. Abe was a real man. He grew up poor, and worked, worked, and worked for Lorraine and his 4 kids.

Some of the kids he put through college, some he nearly put through a wall. But he always gave his all to them (and, for a time in my childhood, to this nepew as well).

So, rest in peace, Abe. If there's an afterlife, I hope you sit on a celestial bench with Hy, and talk about the War, the Bronx, and your families.

I'll be along, too, but hopefully not for a long, long time.