SAN DIEGO — Sybil Koven, lovingly known as Bubbe to her children and grandchildren, was my dear friend. Every Saturday morning after I finished playing tennis, we would sit on her balcony overlooking San Diego Bay and gossip about our families and friends, the best and worst restaurants, politics, the symphony, religion and kitchen appliances. While we chatted, huge gray U.S.Navy ships often glided silently by, going to or from war with flags unfurled and sailors in dress uniforms proudly lining the rails at parade rest. At times they seemed so close that we could reach out and touch them.
I wrote this poem as a tribute to her and the courageous young men who man those ships.
Sybil died of cancer at the age of 74.
It all began a clamoring seagulls tune,
sung at dusk on the rising moon
Symphony and song, the sun’s first ray
proclaimed the arrival of Bubbe by the Bay.
Four by the clock, talk all day
ship to shore, the sound is gay.
She’s here! She’s ours! Hip hip hooray
Welcome, welcome, Bubbe by the Bay.
Through fame and flame and flags unfurled
the name winds round tall masts curled
Blow gently June again in May
calm and sweet Bubbe by the Bay.
Each morn great ships shine and gleam
Captain orders, boilers puff steam
arise deck top, don’t delay
all hands salute Bubbe by the Bay.
Sailors sail to glory, battle night and day
many return, others sadly must stay
On lonely shores they dream and pray
to return once more to Bubbe by the Bay.
Her gaze serene high on balcony wall
all ships pass, return, recall.
A gentle wave melts fears away
embraced in love by Bubbe of the Bay.
Children play on a chocolate slide
parents chests puffed with pride
Laughter echoes bouncing gay
sparkling sounds for Bubbe by the Bay.
Time casts off its cloak once more.
The sun’s last rays touch the silvery shore,
rippling waves in the foaming sway
always watchful, Bubbe by the Bay.
One night the moth floats cast adrift
dance flame gone ashes to sift
The spell is broken darkness holds sway
pain filled sky no Bubbe by the Bay.
Six months long the sun is blue
mist hangs heavy hearts do too
Rust rings round nature’s display
emptiness reigns, still no Bubbe by the Bay.
Summer’s song scolds the gloom
shaking shadows wailing doom
Skipping currents of voices cry-hey!
she’s back, she’s back, Bubbe by the Bay.
With crown and scepter the water’s host
catch a daytime dancing ghost
Jaunty Sailors strut on decks of gray
hailing the return of Bubbe by the Bay.
Weary mariners lay down to rest
caressing pillows time will test
Burdens borne lightly fear floats away
now and forever Bubbe by the Bay.
For many years she reigned on high
The Tides rose then came shy
Comforting all who passed her way
Gentle, caring, Bubbe by the Bay.
And now the last sun has set
A final wave with no regret
There’s one more thing she’s asked to say
I’ve loved you all each night and day
Farewell, farewell, Bubbe by the Bay.
*
Ira Spector is an author and freelance writer based in San Diego. This selection was republished from Spector’s 2011 work, Sammy Where Are You? .An Unconventional Memoir … Sort of. It is available via Amazon. Free obituaries in memory of members of the San Diego County Jewish community are sponsored on San Diego Jewish World by Inland Industries Group LP in memory of long-time San Diego Jewish community leader Marie (Mrs. Gabriel) Berg.