Nettie Wiseman Kramer
For those of you who do not yet know, this post will serve to inform that my grandmother passed away on Monday, February 15th. She was 98 years old, and died in her sleep. I'm sitting the rest of my Shiva until tomorrow; I return to work on Friday morning. Any company/calls are welcome. Many, many thanks to those three individuals who have been there for me during this difficult time.
Grandma was one of my ultimate role models for life. One might expect a woman who lived through the Great Depression and two World Wars (including the Holocaust) to be somewhat jaded and pessimistic, but my grandma was always upbeat and energized. She was a forward-thinker and a problem-solver, never allowing temporary setbacks to cloud her ability to find solutions to problems, even toward the end of her days. She spoke five languages (English, Hebrew, Latin, Greek, and Yiddish), somehow attained a traditional Orthodox Jewish education at a time when women were not allowed to do so, and achieved summa cum laude in college at a time when most women were encouraged to stop their education after attaining an Mrs. She had to give up her dream of being a Latin/Greek teacher due to the Depression, and worked for many years as a legal secretary. When she retired (over the lawyer's many protests), she was replaced by four men and a computer. She even briefly worked for the FBI, transcribing overheard conversations for evidence (this was long before portable recording technology was invented). Without Grandma, we might not have soft-serve ice cream, as it was she who helped convinced the lawyer she worked for to patent Mr. Carvel's product. She helped me in Latin class by translating Virgil with me--at the age of 86. Grandma kept her intellect sharp until the very end of her life; in fact, the day before she died, she offered to begin giving French lessons to a neighbor.
In addition to her staggering brilliance, Grandma was the ultimate good karma producer; we used to joke that she would bring good weather when she visited--because when Grandma was around, it never rained in summer or stormed in winter. Not once. She has always been there for her children and grandchildren, providing us not only with a calm and confident ear, but with teaching and wisdom that was always useful in helping us not only put our problems in perspective, but solve them as well. She was competitive, but even more compassionate. Once, when she was in college, she deliberately performed poorly on a high-jump exercise, because she was told that any girl in her class who could not jump higher than she (as she was the shortest) would fail the class. When confronted by her disappointed gym teacher, who knew very well that she could jump higher than any of the other girls, Grandma simply said, "I guess I must have had an off-day." Every one of the girls passed Gym.
Grandma possessed a great sense of humor, and the ability to laugh when she wanted to laugh (which was often), not when she felt she was supposed to. She never did anything she was not fully confident about, and she always stood by her decisions regardless of what others thought. She lived every moment in superlatives. Every meal she ate was the "best" one, and every day she spent with her family was the "best day" she could have asked for. She lived with her whole heart open not only to her family, but to strangers as well. She answered every single letter from a charity organization. She may not have been able to donate much, but she did not turn a single one down while she could spare ten dollars. She was a valued organizer at Hadassah (the Women's Zionist Organization of America), and always made time in her schedule to make sure that everyone received individual attention as she worked. When Grandma was in control, everyone knew that everything would be all right--and that went for both work and home.
Ten years ago, Grandma told my mother that one day, she would die with no warning. She had made up her mind that when it was her time, she just wanted to go--no hospitals, no nursing homes, no at-home care. She warned my mother that it would be sudden, but that she wouldn't die unless she was sure it was her time. At 98, Grandma was losing control of her body. She was beginning to go blind. She had pain in her hands, and could not walk far without fatigue. Grandma always used to say that she'd rather die than be dependent on someone else. When most people say that they'd rather die than do something, they don't really mean it. Grandma really DID choose death over dependence, and it was the way she wanted to go. I only wish that I had had a little warning.
Grandma sent me a little money for Valentine's Day. I called her on February 13th to thank her (and to generally chat--we spoke approximately once a week). Grandma's comment was, "just because you don't have a husband doesn't mean you can't go out and have a good time!" We laughed, I thanked her again, told her I loved her, and she returned the sentiment. That was our last conversation. I was sure she'd be around for at least a few more years, but I'm glad that her death occurred in the manner and at the time she wanted it to.
The day she died, a great light went out of the world. I will miss her terribly for the rest of my life, but I am so grateful that of all the women in the world, she was my mother's mother. I will do my utmost to ensure that her legacy lives on in my life and in those of my children.
Grandma was one of my ultimate role models for life. One might expect a woman who lived through the Great Depression and two World Wars (including the Holocaust) to be somewhat jaded and pessimistic, but my grandma was always upbeat and energized. She was a forward-thinker and a problem-solver, never allowing temporary setbacks to cloud her ability to find solutions to problems, even toward the end of her days. She spoke five languages (English, Hebrew, Latin, Greek, and Yiddish), somehow attained a traditional Orthodox Jewish education at a time when women were not allowed to do so, and achieved summa cum laude in college at a time when most women were encouraged to stop their education after attaining an Mrs. She had to give up her dream of being a Latin/Greek teacher due to the Depression, and worked for many years as a legal secretary. When she retired (over the lawyer's many protests), she was replaced by four men and a computer. She even briefly worked for the FBI, transcribing overheard conversations for evidence (this was long before portable recording technology was invented). Without Grandma, we might not have soft-serve ice cream, as it was she who helped convinced the lawyer she worked for to patent Mr. Carvel's product. She helped me in Latin class by translating Virgil with me--at the age of 86. Grandma kept her intellect sharp until the very end of her life; in fact, the day before she died, she offered to begin giving French lessons to a neighbor.
In addition to her staggering brilliance, Grandma was the ultimate good karma producer; we used to joke that she would bring good weather when she visited--because when Grandma was around, it never rained in summer or stormed in winter. Not once. She has always been there for her children and grandchildren, providing us not only with a calm and confident ear, but with teaching and wisdom that was always useful in helping us not only put our problems in perspective, but solve them as well. She was competitive, but even more compassionate. Once, when she was in college, she deliberately performed poorly on a high-jump exercise, because she was told that any girl in her class who could not jump higher than she (as she was the shortest) would fail the class. When confronted by her disappointed gym teacher, who knew very well that she could jump higher than any of the other girls, Grandma simply said, "I guess I must have had an off-day." Every one of the girls passed Gym.
Grandma possessed a great sense of humor, and the ability to laugh when she wanted to laugh (which was often), not when she felt she was supposed to. She never did anything she was not fully confident about, and she always stood by her decisions regardless of what others thought. She lived every moment in superlatives. Every meal she ate was the "best" one, and every day she spent with her family was the "best day" she could have asked for. She lived with her whole heart open not only to her family, but to strangers as well. She answered every single letter from a charity organization. She may not have been able to donate much, but she did not turn a single one down while she could spare ten dollars. She was a valued organizer at Hadassah (the Women's Zionist Organization of America), and always made time in her schedule to make sure that everyone received individual attention as she worked. When Grandma was in control, everyone knew that everything would be all right--and that went for both work and home.
Ten years ago, Grandma told my mother that one day, she would die with no warning. She had made up her mind that when it was her time, she just wanted to go--no hospitals, no nursing homes, no at-home care. She warned my mother that it would be sudden, but that she wouldn't die unless she was sure it was her time. At 98, Grandma was losing control of her body. She was beginning to go blind. She had pain in her hands, and could not walk far without fatigue. Grandma always used to say that she'd rather die than be dependent on someone else. When most people say that they'd rather die than do something, they don't really mean it. Grandma really DID choose death over dependence, and it was the way she wanted to go. I only wish that I had had a little warning.
Grandma sent me a little money for Valentine's Day. I called her on February 13th to thank her (and to generally chat--we spoke approximately once a week). Grandma's comment was, "just because you don't have a husband doesn't mean you can't go out and have a good time!" We laughed, I thanked her again, told her I loved her, and she returned the sentiment. That was our last conversation. I was sure she'd be around for at least a few more years, but I'm glad that her death occurred in the manner and at the time she wanted it to.
The day she died, a great light went out of the world. I will miss her terribly for the rest of my life, but I am so grateful that of all the women in the world, she was my mother's mother. I will do my utmost to ensure that her legacy lives on in my life and in those of my children.