She fought hard when the cancer came – not that anyone expected anything differently. She even beat it twice, but the third time was too much. She was in her eighties when she passed away. Her death left me immensely sad and broken for a long time. I miss her deeply every day – but I also know it was not tragic. She lived a long life. And even as the emptiness came over me when I learned that she had gone – realizing that now I would have to live in a world without her, I knew I was lucky because my memories are vast and never ending. My life will always remain intimately interwoven with hers.

Strength is a profound gift in life. My Mom-Mom had it. Physically, she was imposing – larger than life. Even as she aged, she still towered over me. She wore big gold rings on her fingers and Oprah style diamonds. As kids and even still as adults, my sisters and I used to try on her jewelry…but we could never pull it off. The rings were oversized, the diamonds too heavy on our ears. Only Mom-Mom could really carry the bling.  Mom-Mom was vibrant, she was youthful, she was a leader, she was extremely loving, and she was never afraid to tell you like it is. And Mom-Mom was a rock. The trials and tribulations would come. Mom-Mom just took it – never complaining, never faltering.

There is no doubt that my grandmother got her strength from her own mother – her name was Sarah (that is my middle name and I carry with pride). In our family though, she is simply known as Bubby. A picture of Bubby used to hang in my grandparents’ house and it now sits on the shelf in my parents living room. Bubby is sitting tall and straight, staring the camera down, no smile – as if to say – try me. It is the pose of a defiant woman. A woman whose husband deserted her and her three small kids in the 1930s. A woman who would go hungry for days but always make sure there was food on the table for her children. A woman who worked in a sweat shop sewing buttons on hats, and when the conditions in that sweat shop became unbearable, she worked to organize one of the first women’s union in the Philadelphia area. She was a woman who probably couldn’t afford gold or diamonds, but just as well because she had no use for them.  Stand tall, stand firm, do not give an inch.

When my Mom-Mom passed away, Amichai was just about a year old and I was still struggling in my marriage. She knew it too – not because I told her but because she knew me, and she saw that I was gone. I was in the states about 3 weeks before she passed away, and one of the last things she told me in person, her finger pointed squarely in my face, was – We support you. But I felt more than anything that I was letting her down, that I was letting Bubby down. I was marring their legacy. It was as if I heard Bubby screaming at me – you are wasting your namesake! Get up and stand tall! I couldn’t bare to even glance at that picture of her anymore – it was like she was looking right through me, shaking her head in disgust. And now, I would have to contend with both women screaming at me from above…

But I knew they weren’t really mad or disappointed – more than anything, they were just hurting for me, knowing that as much as they wanted, they couldn’t solve this one. Not them, not my parents, not my sisters, not my friends. Just me. I imagine one of the most frustrating parts of parenthood is seeing your child hurt and knowing you can’t fix it. I’m still at the stage with Amichai where he looks to me to restore the chaos…but the day will come where all I can offer is my support and love and watch him solve the problem. And the truth is, that’s what being an adult is all about. Hopefully parents and mentors have imparted their children with the proper tools and examples, but its all you. You have to figure it out, you have to deal with it on your own time and on your own terms. (A very good friend told me bluntly – we let you make your own decisions before, I’m not letting this go on anymore. I love her for the friend she is and the brutal honesty she brought, but I had to take ownership of this myself…which she knew, kinda…)

I did indeed deal with it on my own time and my own terms. It was a process, but if there was one moment that triggered all of it, when I knew I had to make changes, it was when I was putting Amichai to bed one night. I looked at him and I thought, if I stay – he will never know me. All he will know is this shadow that I barely recognized. That shook me to my core. He didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve that. It clicked, and just like that I reclaimed my strength. It still took time, but once I realized that my strength will not be distinguished or diminished – that it was inside of me and it could not be taken, I was able to move forward. I worked with experienced counselors to help map out the road I would travel. I had the tremendous support and love from family and friends. And when the day came for me to say that I was leaving, that this simply could not go on – as scary and difficult as that was – it was also a shining moment. I stood tall, I stood firm and I did not falter.

Strength is a profound gift in life. And I am certain that two tough ladies are resting a little easier…