Bessie Liss Z"L
Oh bloggie, bloggie, bloggie blog ive only had you for 3 days and your already sending into whilrwinds of confusion. How should i carry on? Should i just witter on from here, or should i recap since last november (the last time i sent an update email)?
The trouble with recapping is thats its not exactly very thrilling and its not really in the style i imagine keeping my blog. Bloody-hell i see ive been at the protentious pills again. Who cares what your style is this isnt for literary awards and besides its not as if you have any readers so stop whining and get on with it! - fair enough.
Starting at the end of November also means writing about the death of my grandma, which i have no problem doing, its just not the easiest of starts to this new epoch of bloginess is it. Well thats no excuse i guess.
That being the case I am going to dedicate the rest of this blog entry to Bessie Liss – Basya Bas Chaim Dovid, may her memory be for a blessing.
In keeping with the tradition of preserving a persons memory by talking about them, let me start with the story of that fateful weekend, which is actually a pretty good one…
I had been toying with visiting England for the weekend of my (other, i.e. paternal) grandma on the occasion of her 96th Birthday party for a little while, when visiting Dan, Nina, Jeff and Sanda as they holidayed in Eilat, I mentioned what at that stage was a passing thought. Jeff was particularly vociferous in his support for what I intended to be a surprise visit.
Soon we had decided that I would stay with Daniel and Nina in secret, arriving at my parents house only for the party (this being the first they would know about me being in England to, so a double surprise was in store)
Due to confusion over the buying of my ticket which I did over the internet, my parents got wind of the plan and we decided to surprise my dinner when she came (with my parents ofcourse) to Daniel and Ninas’ for Friday Night Dinner where I would be waiting to surprise her. This is how things turned out and the surprise went off well.
As a result of the change of plan, with my parents finding out, I ended up staying with them on the Thursday evening of my return to England, and as a result took the opportunity to visit Boobie (Aka Bessie) in hospital where she had been for several weeks suffering with a urinary infection.
I had not seen Boobie since before I left for Israel about 16 months previously. I had been back to England in the intervening period but a mixture of circumstance and my mum’s understandable reluctance for me to go had meant that I had lost track of her mental decline and was not sure what to expect when I went to the hospital. I can remember being prepared for the possibility that she would not recognise or remember me, but I wasn’t ready for what I saw.
Having been in the hospital a number of weeks Boobie had contracted a chest infection. She could not speak, only groan, didn’t seam to acknowledge the presence of myself or my mother, was clearly very uncomfortable and was fitted with an oxygen mask. She seamed dazed, confused and undoubtedly undignified. This was not a fitting end for a woman who had been so sharp-witted only a handful of years before.
And of course it was the end. The phone call came early on Sunday morning to say that she had died earlier that morning. I was immediately struck by a sense of fate. Somewhere, somehow it seemed certain that Boobie had known that I had been by her bed-side just hours before hand. And of course I would not have been able to make the visit if my parents had not discovered my plan.
The rest of that Sunday was testament to the inner strength of the Soloway family as a whole and especially that of my mother. She was left with the unenviable task of making arrangements for a funeral/shivah whilst being scheduled to host the birthday party for my other grandma which was set for that afternoon and too late to be altered or cancelled.
When you live to be 96 its also undoubtedly true that you deserve a birthday party whatever the circumstances.
And so it was, after consultation with our Rabbi, the party went ahead. Our family and friends gathered to celebrate. The same people who would be returning for a leviah and shivah later in the week gave my grandma the birthday party she deserved. A testament to the strength of all of them!
The trouble with recapping is thats its not exactly very thrilling and its not really in the style i imagine keeping my blog. Bloody-hell i see ive been at the protentious pills again. Who cares what your style is this isnt for literary awards and besides its not as if you have any readers so stop whining and get on with it! - fair enough.
Starting at the end of November also means writing about the death of my grandma, which i have no problem doing, its just not the easiest of starts to this new epoch of bloginess is it. Well thats no excuse i guess.
That being the case I am going to dedicate the rest of this blog entry to Bessie Liss – Basya Bas Chaim Dovid, may her memory be for a blessing.
In keeping with the tradition of preserving a persons memory by talking about them, let me start with the story of that fateful weekend, which is actually a pretty good one…
I had been toying with visiting England for the weekend of my (other, i.e. paternal) grandma on the occasion of her 96th Birthday party for a little while, when visiting Dan, Nina, Jeff and Sanda as they holidayed in Eilat, I mentioned what at that stage was a passing thought. Jeff was particularly vociferous in his support for what I intended to be a surprise visit.
Soon we had decided that I would stay with Daniel and Nina in secret, arriving at my parents house only for the party (this being the first they would know about me being in England to, so a double surprise was in store)
Due to confusion over the buying of my ticket which I did over the internet, my parents got wind of the plan and we decided to surprise my dinner when she came (with my parents ofcourse) to Daniel and Ninas’ for Friday Night Dinner where I would be waiting to surprise her. This is how things turned out and the surprise went off well.
As a result of the change of plan, with my parents finding out, I ended up staying with them on the Thursday evening of my return to England, and as a result took the opportunity to visit Boobie (Aka Bessie) in hospital where she had been for several weeks suffering with a urinary infection.
I had not seen Boobie since before I left for Israel about 16 months previously. I had been back to England in the intervening period but a mixture of circumstance and my mum’s understandable reluctance for me to go had meant that I had lost track of her mental decline and was not sure what to expect when I went to the hospital. I can remember being prepared for the possibility that she would not recognise or remember me, but I wasn’t ready for what I saw.
Having been in the hospital a number of weeks Boobie had contracted a chest infection. She could not speak, only groan, didn’t seam to acknowledge the presence of myself or my mother, was clearly very uncomfortable and was fitted with an oxygen mask. She seamed dazed, confused and undoubtedly undignified. This was not a fitting end for a woman who had been so sharp-witted only a handful of years before.
And of course it was the end. The phone call came early on Sunday morning to say that she had died earlier that morning. I was immediately struck by a sense of fate. Somewhere, somehow it seemed certain that Boobie had known that I had been by her bed-side just hours before hand. And of course I would not have been able to make the visit if my parents had not discovered my plan.
The rest of that Sunday was testament to the inner strength of the Soloway family as a whole and especially that of my mother. She was left with the unenviable task of making arrangements for a funeral/shivah whilst being scheduled to host the birthday party for my other grandma which was set for that afternoon and too late to be altered or cancelled.
When you live to be 96 its also undoubtedly true that you deserve a birthday party whatever the circumstances.
And so it was, after consultation with our Rabbi, the party went ahead. Our family and friends gathered to celebrate. The same people who would be returning for a leviah and shivah later in the week gave my grandma the birthday party she deserved. A testament to the strength of all of them!
posted by Ben at 1:16 pm
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