Even at funerals and dentists’ offices, there are positives to savor

By Donald H. Harrison

SAN DIEGO—Most people dread going to a funeral or to the dentist. Whenever I go to either, I have to give myself a pep talk.

I repeat to myself the sage observation of Rabbi Leonard Rosenthal of Tifereth Israel Synagogue that helping to bury a person is one of the kindest mitzvot of all, because it is an action that the recipient can never reciprocate.

I also remind myself that the deceased person has left family members for whom the grieving process can be made easier by the rituals surrounding death and the presence of friends and relatives.

So I go to the funerals.

Sometimes, nevertheless, I wonder if my wife’s cousin Jay Jacobson isn’t also correct when he says that  instead of going to funerals, we should travel anywhere, anytime, to attend a simcha for a relative or a friend.  I’m not sure that attendance at simchas and funerals are mutually exclusive, but I get his point.  We should show people how much we appreciate them while they are alive.

Eulogies can be wonderfully inspirational, but the saddest thing about them is that the person being honored can’t hear them.  More often than not, the eulogies dwell on the departed’s good points, on the little things that they did that made them so appreciated by their family and friends.

And, so it was at the most recent funeral I attended, at which approximately 80 mourners gathered graveside at El Camino Memorial Park on Wednesday, March 17, to bid farewell to Resa Brenner who died three days earlier at La Vida Real retirement community in Rancho San Diego.

There was a mixed crowd of mourners at the ceremony—husband, children, and grandchildren, of course, and with them some of their closest friends.  Numerous attendees came from the Sisterhood of Tifereth Israel Synagogue in which Resa and her husband, Sy Brenner, had been active in the latter part of her life.  Prior to that they had been founders of now defunct Beth Tefilah Synagogue where Resa spent so much time, Sy once kiddingly suggested that they simply move into the congregation’s social hall.

Having recently returned home from a relaxing and much needed cruise, I was startled by one story told about Resa by Rabbi Rosenthal, who officiated at the funeral.  One day one of her grown children asked if she possibly could come over to his house and help with some matters that needed attending.  Resa agreed, unhesitatingly, not mentioning that she and Sy had planned to leave on a cruise the next day.  Instead, she cancelled the cruise.

Okay, in a full-blown emergency, I’d have cancelled a cruise, but I would not have canceled it  just to “help out” my adult children. Hearing the rabbi’s story about Resa,  I had to admire her level of devotion and commitment for  her grown family members.   I was not the only one startled by the story.  I saw a few other jaws dropping as the rabbi told it.

Another group of people among the mourners were American Ex-Prisoners of War who, like Sy, had suffered incarceration by American’s war enemies.  Sy had fought during World War II in the European theatre, and was captured by the Germans.  Besides having the normal concerns of a POW, Sy always had to worry that the Nazis would discover that he was Jewish—and perhaps execute him on the spot.   After the war, Resa helped Sy readjust to civilian society, understanding and soothing him when he had nightmares which today we know are typical of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Although vital statistics will report that Resa died at the age of 81, in her mind—and with full agreement of her family members—she was perennially 29, which was ten years younger than the permanent age of comedian Jack Benny.  Resa had a vivacious personality, able to draw strangers into conversations and to make them feel immediately  liked and welcomed.  It didn’t matter if the stranger were rich or poor, a worker or a benefactor, Resa drew one and all to her, bestowing upon each person she met her full attention and a pleasant matter.

Alzheimer’s Disease robbed Resa of her memory in later years, but it could not deprive her of her impeccable manners.  When someone came to talk to her, perhaps to ask how she was feeling, she would brightly respond that she was feeling well—and she would then credit that person’s presence for helping her to feel so well.

After she broke a hip and went into a steep physical decline, her family gathered around her bedside to tell her of their love. When it was painfully clear that she could not recover, they let her know that  they were there supporting her decision whether she wanted to hold on or let go.

Resa’s family members were not the only ones who trooped to her room at La Vida Real; nearly every person who worked at the retirement facility, with tears in their eyes, also came to say goodbye to the woman who always made them feel so appreciated.

How often do we compliment other people for the good things that they do?  We all should follow Resa’s example.

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I mentioned earlier that going to the dentist  is another cause for dread.  I know men are supposed to be macho and stoic and not even wince when the dentist’s drill hits a nerve buried deep inside a tooth.  But I can’t live up to the cultural myth.  I need to take a Valium before I go to the dentist, and once there be administered some numbing agent before I can undergo treatment.  Even with these precautions, I still feel myself jumping straight from the dentist’s chair to the ceiling.

And yet, positive experiences are even available during a dentist’s visit.  I spent four hours on Thursday, March 18, having some extensive work done at the Tierra Town Dental Center. While sitting in the feared chair, I made it a point to inquire about the lives of the people into whose care I had entrusted my mouth.  I was glad that I did.

For example, I learned that my dentist, Dr. Tram K. Le, has traveled extensively in Europe, and hopes to someday take her children to see her native Vietnam.  But the travel that she would like to do, more than any other, she said, is on volunteer missions to third-world countries where she could use her skills as a dentist to bring health care to people who could not otherwise ever afford it.   If hands with a drill have to be in your mouth, you can’t help but be pleased that they are the hands of someone so compassionate.

Tierra Town Dental Center has an international flavor pleasing to me and my wife Nancy.  Our daughter married a young man from Israel; our son a young woman from Taiwan.  Our extended family stretches around the world. So too, I learned, do the families of the staff of Tierra Town Dental Center.  One of the dental assistants is the daughter of a Mexican-American U.S. serviceman who married a German woman while on long-term duty in the Wiesbaden area.  The dental assistant’s own husband is German.

Another assistant is of Mexican background, and spent many volunteer hours in Colorado advising migrant workers about their rights.

A registered dental assistant grew up in Santee, California, which is only two exits east on State Route 52 from the Tierrasanta dental offices.  Her ancestry is the Carnegie family, with one famous distant cousin being Andrew Carnegie, who not only built the famous concert hall in New York City, but also contributed a substantial part of his fortune to building community libraries all across America.    I couldn’t resist telling the old joke about the way to get to Carnegie Hall.  “Practice!”  She was so nice, she pretended that she hadn’t heard the joke about a million times before.

Another staff member, a registered dental hygienist, told me about her two daughters, 6 and 4.  The older one loves to read to the younger one, who in turn loves to do anything that the older one loves to do.  That reminded me of my own grandchildren.  Sky, 3, follows Shor, 8, around, wanting to do anything Shor does.

True, none of this conversation contained earth-shattering revelations, but my point is that even in a dental chair, one can brighten one’s life with pleasant conversation,  and get to know a little something about other people.

With April 15 approaching, another activity that everyone seems to dread is preparing and paying income taxes, an activity that Nancy with her background as a bookkeeper attends to for our household.  I’ll try to keep track of any interesting and positive stories she may relate as a result of the process.

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Harrison is editor of