Monday, April 2, 2012

In Praise of Mrs. G

What a beautiful tribute from Thomas Sowell. 

Rest in Peace, Mrs. G.

"Although we all know that death is inevitable, we are still seldom fully prepared for the death of someone who has been important in our lives."

That is so true. One can never prepare for such things. We can only hope that we share as many long, healthy years as possible with our mentors-whether family members or friends, teachers or coaches. 

Of course it is sad when people we love die. But there is something definitely infinite about the human spirit. We are still mesmerized by the words and music of our forefathers, by the feelings that a beautiful piece of art, or a wise phrase, can inspire. 

We remember our loved ones, and their words animate our behaviour and choices, and inform the way we live and the way we choose to raise our children. 

When I close my eyes, I can still hear my grandparents' voices-not just the words, but  the precise way in which they intoned my name. 

If I close my eyes, I can still feel my grandmother's smooth hands "making a cake" on my back-the way that I make cakes on my son's back today-"mixing" in the flour, "pouring" the sugar, "cracking" the eggs and "cutting" the pieces. 

I can see the translucent pink under my other grandmother's skin. The skin that all the village girls were known for in Poland. Her sad grey, watery eyes. I can hear my grandfather chuckling with his schnapps, talking to people we could never see, having a good laugh and staving off the Angel of Death-the malach hamoves for another day, or week-till he could make it to 100. 

I hear little bits of good advice my parents have told me over the years, ring in my ears as I go through my day. 

The blessings of mentors are many.