Two Funerals, No Weddings

So D1 came to our local rich, reform synagogue and attended the memorial service of Dr. Michael. We spoke later in the day -- she said it was so horrible, she didn't want to talk about it. Some of her close friends flew in from California and Chicago -- to support the doc's daughter Caroline. I'm guessing that seeing the loss of a father hit too close to home for D1. I get it.

Meanwhile, Wifey and I drove to the Palace, and Wifey helped my suegra get ready. She typed out "Lou died -- we're going to his funeral" and Rachel understood, at first. She peppered us with questions -- her short term memory is mostly gone. But we wrestled her still sizeable body into the car, the wheelchair fought me going into the trunk, but I won..and we were off.

I so rarely drive to Broward anymore, but this trip was to a cemetery off Sheridan -- where our friend Edna's father was buried a few months back. We were early, and I stopped for gas. My mother in law awoke, and bellowed that she needed the bathroom. So Wifey took her. This turned out to be a mistake.

The walk through the convenience store knocked the old lady out. She slumped, dramatically, next to a car parked next to mine, "unable" to get back into our vehicle. I grabbed her and led her in. Miraculously, she perked up again as we drove to the cemetery. But Wifey and I concluded she probably didn't need to leave the Palace in the future. She's fine in the wheelchair -- any walking at all is too much for her and us.

I unloaded her, and we went inside. Lou's family was gathered. His widow Sally came over in her walker and greeted us. My mother in law didn't recognize her sister in law, and didn't hide her disgust when we told her it was Sally.

Inside the chapel, she started loudly explaining how old and terrible Sally looked, and we shushed her. My mother in law thinks she and her contemporaries have frozen in time in their 60s or 70s. They have not.

Lou was 95, and his sons and 2 grandkids spoke lovingly about him. The rental rabbi was the same one who had performed Edna's father's service, and the guy has skills. He did a great job speaking lovingly about men he had never met. I was impressed -- I complimented him afterwards.

The coffin was no plain pine box -- it was a piece of polished furniture befitting a carpenter like Lou. The coffin was wheeled to a mausoleum -- the industrialist Victor Posner had a prominent place, so I knew this was an expensive piece of final real estate. The elevated Lou to the third floor, and pushed in the coffin. I noticed the space was left for another coffin. I could tell Sally was thinking the same thing.

We drove to Sally's condo for a shiva. I caught up with Lou's boys Mark and Sandy -- two great guys I always liked a lot. Mark has three awesome sons and they were there, with Sandy's son and twin girls.

All 5 kids are terrific -- loving, accomplished, wonderful young people.

As Sandy said about his father, many people say they had a tough life, but compared to Lou, they're minor league sufferers. Lou made it though the Holocaust.  But he built a loving family, and the grandkids are the proof.

So no, no tears for a 95 year old who lived such a wonderful life.  Wifey and I came home repeating my favorite Lou story -- one I wasn't present for.

Barry went to a Barnes and Noble in the late 90s. At the cafe, he saw my father in law Richard loudly arguing with another older guy. They were gesticulating wildly, and Barry went into protective mode -- he used to be a bouncer at the UM Rathskellar, and he was remembering the technique for breaking up a fight without getting hurt yourself. He figured my father in law and the smaller, wiry man were about to come to blows. He went in...

No, my father in law explained, this was his brother Lou!  They were just debating some point -- probably the name of some long dead person from Lodz, Poland. The loud talking and gesturing was just how they spoke.

RIP, Lou -- a life well lived.