Matriarch of literary family, Laura Simon, near death

By Donald H. Harrison

ENCINITAS, California — Right now, as I write this, Laura Simon, 108, is lying in a bed at the Aviara Healthcare Center somewhere between life and death as her son, screenwriter and playwright Mayo Simon, sits besides her, contemplating, at age 86, the awfulness of becoming an orphan.

There seems to be no doubt that will be the outcome of Laura’s illness; she already has been transferred from regular medical care to hospice care. Mayo tells me that after all these years, his mother’s body just doesn’t absorb food any more; she gets no energy from it.

And yet, everyone who knows Laura finds it difficult to believe that the inevitable will affect even her.  This is the woman who published a book when she turned 100 called I’m Still Here,  which San Diego Jewish World later serialized.  This is the woman who has been the subject of several documentaries, either in full or in part.  This is the woman who, up to now, the Library of Congress has called the “oldest living author” in its collection.  This is the woman whose painting hangs at the California Women’s Museum.  This is the woman who has attracted any number of admirers — from gerontologists wondering about her secret, to historians, wondering about her insights.

This is the woman who is the matriarch of a successful family of writers, including Mayo, of course, as well as  his daughter, Francesca Simon, whose books about “Horrid Henry” are among the most popular children’s series in the United Kingdom.

It’s not difficult to believe that if anyone can escape That Final Decree, Laura’s probably the one.

Mayo flew out to San Diego County from New York City to be with his mother in what the doctors tell him are likely to be her final days.  He came alone but many local people care about his welfare.  Joanne Faryon of KPBS and her husband Les have provided home hospitality.  Mayo had Friday night Shabbat dinner with Nancy and me and members of our family, and on Saturday morning, June 14, he attended morning Shabbat services at Young Israel of San Diego, which is located in a shopping center in the shadow of Cowles Mountain.

The kind Orthodox congregation extended to Mayo the honor of an aliyah as we read the Torah portion about Joshua and Caleb being the only two of 12 scouts to bring back a good report about Canaan to Moses and the Israelites. I know that Mayo’s spirits were lifted by the misheberach prayer that was said for Laura’s health.

Rabbi Chaim Hollander also led the congregation in reciting tehillim for the three kidnapped tenagers in Israel, commenting that while this is not normally done during Shabbat services, when one part of the body of the Jewish people is hurt, the whole body aches.  So it is, as the parents of the kidnapped teens agonize over their fate, that we the Jewish people also agonize.  And, so it is, for those who know Laura and Mayo, that we are seared with the knowledge of what they are going through.

For 86 years, Mayo–whose television credits included the documentary “Why Man Creates” and the pilot episode of  “Man from Atlantis” —  has had the good fortune of a living mother, who on more than one occasion has been the inspiration for works that he has written, including the play “The Old Lady’s Guide to Survival.”  Not so long ago, I wrote a story about the fact that when Mayo suffered with prostate problems, his doctor in New York told him that usually when people are in their 80s, doctors will recommend against any such surgical procedure on the theory that people of that age typically will die of other causes well before the prostate problems get them.  Doctors tell patients, jokingly, “I’ll do the surgery, but only with your parents’ permission.”  Mayo surprised his doctor when he responded “okay, if that’s what you want, I’ll ask my mother to send you a note.”  PS: Given the longevity in the Simon family, the doctor decided to do the surgery, which has been deemed successful

Mayo has a beloved woman friend, but at this particular time her work has kept her reluctantly on the East Coast.  He has grown children, but circumstances make it impossible for them to be here in San Diego County.  The family is staying in touch by telephone and email, of course, but after hours of sitting at his mother’s bedside, Mayo obviously yearns for dear ones with whom he can communicate without aid of man-made devices.

My own father died in 1975, my mother in 1987.  I’ve been an “orphan” since I’m 42 years old.  So, I’ve had 26 years more experience than Mayo has of seeing the preceding generation die off and realizing that my generation is next in line.  I remember the sense of squaring my shoulders back, and jutting my chin forward, and thinking with little self-assurance, “Well, if this is how it must be, I’ll  try somehow to acquit myself.”  I know similar thoughts have crossed Mayo’s mind, as eventually such thoughts come to almost everyone  whose parents die before they do.    Mayo already has made contingency plans to accompany his mother’s body back to Chicago for burial, and then to return to New York City where he will begin the process of shiva.

These are the thoughts that we shudder at thinking; yet, when your mother is in end-stage hospice care, they are unavoidable.  I hope San Diego Jewish World readers will remember Laura and Mayo Simon in their prayers and thoughts,.