By J. Zel Lurie
DELRAY BEACH, Florida — On the Presidents Day weekend I flew to Virginia to attend the funeral of my kid brother, Leon, who had died at 96. The obituary in the Washington Post said that he had died peacefully but reluctantly in the arms of his partner, Alice. “He wanted to live forever,” wrote the obit. That is a slight exaggeration. But he did want to outlast me, two years older. His heart gave up at 96. The funeral service at Congregation Etz Hayim in Falls Church was attended by close to 200 family, friends, former patients and colleagues at the Washington School of Psychiatry.
Ninety years earlier, Leon had begun his education at a modern Orthodox day school with the same name, Yeshiva Etz Hayim in Brooklyn , New York. As the last of six brothers, Leon did not have an easy childhood. He told his daughter Eve, and she repeated it at the funeral that he had trouble getting into the family bathroom. Ted, six years his senior, “would lock the door and stay in there forever,” Eve reported. I would use the maid’s toilet.
Probably more important, Leon felt that his mother had neglected him. He was about 5 when she was elected president of the Borough Park Hadassah, a post that she held until his bar mitzva, when she and my dad made aliya to Haifa. She was busy day and night in Hadassah’s affairs, leaving her two young ones in the care of the Polish maid. But she always knew what was going on. It took Leon about six years of therapeutic and training therapy to come to terms with what he thought was his mother’s neglect and go on to be a very successful psychiatrist. But he never really understood his mom.
He told his youngest son, Jonathan, that my dad was a meek little man and that my mom wore the pants in the family. Not so. My father, who was small in size, made all the important decisions. My mom was a dutiful Jewish housewife who brought up six sons and followed him to Palestine against her real wishes. She kept a kosher home, although she told me that it was nonsense. We had four sets of dishes and flatware and pots and pans: two, milk and meat and never the twain shall meet, and two for Pesah, which Leon and I watched being unpacked and repacked after eight days of use.
I was 7 when mother began to devote most of her time to Hadassah, but I never felt neglected and never had therapy, probably to my loss. I called Leon about a month ago. It was a Saturday morning and he said in a strong voice “I’m working.” I remembered that he had a group once a month on Saturday morning. I said “I’ll call you tomorrow” but I forgot. I never spoke to him again.
Actually, Leon and I have not had a serious conversation for 30 or 40 years. That is a shame, because I might have learned something. He talked to his children and grandchildren. At the funeral, a granddaughter, Dr. Jenifer Weiss, an osteopathic physician, enumerated “some of the gifts he gave me.” Here are some excerpts from her speech: “Fearlessly and tirelessly examine yourself.” “Never keep a gift you don’t want.” “Be skeptical but try it anyway.” “Tell the truth and know when you are lying.” “Ask for what you want.” “Cook with butter and enjoy the tea while it’s hot.” I reflected on these maxims as I flew home to my luxury retirement home in Delray Beach.
“Ask for what you want”cameup at the Mardi Gras dinner that evening. Red beans and rice was on the menu. I told my partner Dorothy that I’d like red beans without rice. She said it is already
mixed. “I’ll ask for it,” I said and I did and a piping hot dish of delicious red beans without rice arrived. On a higher level I wish that the serious gap between Hamas and the Likud Government could be narrowed just as easily. I wish that instead of telling Abbas that he could have peace or Hamas, not both, that Israel would ask Hamas to join the PLO and the peace process. Ask for what you want and you might get it.
Unfortunately the Israel government is not ready to ask this question/ the current government will not make the deep sacrifices on the West Bank it would have to make for peace. There are too many settlers; all of them are armed. The most “pro-Israel” peace plan would displace about 20 percent of the settlers. Will they leave their homes without a fight? The violence of the “price tag” youth, who last week painted “Death to Christians” on a Jerusalem church, points to a civil war of Jew against Jew before there is peace with the Palestinians. When the Israel government overcomes all the obstacles that prevent it from negotiating a peace agreement then they will ask Fatah and Hamas for peace and mean it. It won’t happen in my lifetime .
I said at the funeral “Godbye Leon , I’ll see you soon,” and my daughter, Ellen, burst into tears.
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Lurie is a freelance writer based in Delray Beach, Florida. He may be contacted at jzel.lurie@sdheritage@cox.net