It's appropriate that she passed away so close to Tisha B'Av, the saddest day on our calendar, and on a day when it rained, since it is hard to imagine that God is not crying today.
My mother taught me and my sister the important lessons in and about life. She taught them not by telling--although she didn't hesitate to tell us, especially to tell Evey--but by doing and by being.
She, and my father--who now has the burden of being both father and mother to Evey and me until we finish growing up--and we're not nearly finished with that--taught us that it is possible to both be a good person and enjoy a good life, even THE good life.
On the one hand, she was always interested in the welfare of others. Our family and friends, of course, were at the top of the list--the next-to-last words I heard her say--the last being oy veyismeyr--were Tobele, Tobele--she was worrying about Aunt Toby, her younger sister--but she rarely hesitated in giving unsolicited advice even to a total stranger, whose life story she would then quickly extract.
On the other hand, she so much enjoyed her life, despite frequently, especially in recent years, complaining that she didn't have energy for all the things she was doing, keeping up a schedule that few people half a century younger would have enough energy for. Of course, she didn't have much choice, given that other force of nature in our lives, my father.
She and my father are MY role models in life.
This is a bittersweet day, with the sweet memories intertwined with the realization that never again will she, kvetching that they don't have enough nutritional value, make tomato pancakes for my father and me, nor will she ever again remind us not to throw out the tea bag we were using, because it had only been used once.
For her, not like for the movie, life was almost always beautiful. For us also, thanks to her, life is beautiful.
As for God--well, he has to be crying today