I've tweeted you all through my mother's death. We buried her this morning and I want to share my eulogy with you all so you can know her in life, not just in the indignities of death... Please indulge me.
A eulogy for my Mother in a 🧵...
1/
A eulogy for my Mother in a 🧵...
1/
My mother was elegant, discriminating, funny and complex. The ultimate critic, she could pick apart a novel, an art exhibit or your outfit with equal ease and strength of conviction.
2/
2/
Her attention to detail was, at once, her superhuman strength - her ability to recall and recount the trim on a dress she bought in 1958, the tuna salad from the luncheonette in Far Rockaway, an exchange with a sixth grade teacher, a dish served by a friend fifty years ago.
3/
3/
But it could also be crippling, as her ability to see details sometime obscured her broader vision of the world.
4/
4/
To know my mother was to have had a rocky relationship with her. There were so many ups and so many downs. For everyone, from those closest to her to the staff at local stores, many of whom had banned her from their premises.
5/
5/
Lucky for her, there's been always been a robust turnover of commercial retailers in her neighborhood. But she would always return when the seas had calmed. She couldn't help the conflict but she ultimately yearned for resolution.
6/
6/
My mother was not made for the era into which she was born. It was too modern, too casual, too reliant on technology. And her frustrations only intensified as the years progressed.
7/
7/
She was a defiant Luddite, as any of you who ever tried to communicate with her by email can testify. Texting was never even an option given her refusal to move on from her flip phone, or to really even keep it charged and turned on.
8/
8/
The occasional email would arrive, I can probably count them all on one hand, and each looks like it could have been penned by the Unabomber.
9/
9/
Her standards were high and you were let know immediately if you fell short in any way, from how you held your cutlery, your choice of words and, always, how you buttered your bread.
10/
10/
I hope she's in a happier place, another dimension where time stopped still in the early Mad Men era. Where no would ever be referred to each other by their first name.
11/
11/
She was quite happy to go by Mrs. Robert Zicklin and she wrote down her occupation as homemaker without a flinch. I hope that she's in a place where the department stores of yore, Bonwit Tellers and such, have been returned to their former glory.
11/
11/
Where dinner parties still happened where both the menu and guest list were labors of love. A time before sneakers and dungarees. Where manners reigned supreme. Where Saturday nights brought dinner with friends and Monday nights the Opera.
12/
12/
She mentioned recently how disappointed she would have been if any of her children or grandchildren were colorblind and unable up join her appreciation of art, fashion and jewelry. But the irony is that when I imagine her in her ideal world, it is in Black and White.
13/
13/
She was complicated. She could be selfish and then generous beyond belief. She was self centered but an incredible caretaker of my Dad.
14/
14/
Cooking every meal from scratch to ensure it would be salt free. And arguing with every Dr. she encountered, with the protective instinct of a lioness.
15/
15/
After my father died she found love again in a tumultuous relationship with Joe. They were broken up as much as they were together but in each other they found a partner with whom to critique the world. And they did.
16/
16/
The mother daughter relationship is frought by nature. It is literally your very first relationship in the world with another human, and it becomes riddled with the million lacerations inflicted by life.
17/
17/
By childhood. The teen years. Choices made. Disappointments on both sides. No one quite turning out to be exactly what the other hoped and expected.
18/
18/
So I stand here, in the shadow of the life that gave me life. I stand here with love and appreciation, frustration and gratitude. Death is tricky that way. It doesn't simplify. It doesn't clarify. It only compounds the murkiness of life.
19/
19/
I will take with me from my mother her love of cooking, her talent for bargain hunting, her deep held belief that anything Japanese was better than anything that wasn't. Her love of reading.
20/
20/
And I know that despite my best efforts to quiet them, I will continue to hear her soundtrack of criticism running in the back of my mind. But most importantly, her artistic bent will be carried on by Rebecca, her love of reading and a good sport coat by Spencer.
21/
21/
Her appreciation of humorous details by Benjamin, her love of a good debate by Danielle and her ultimate joy, talking on the phone, by Zelda. They might never watch the movie version of Heidi by choice, but they each had a real and true relationship with their grandmother.
22/
22/
And they will hold on to a little piece of history through her many stories and anecdotes.
Mommy, I know it's been a rough ride but we will miss you. I love you. You are loved. I see you. You are seen.
/end
Mommy, I know it's been a rough ride but we will miss you. I love you. You are loved. I see you. You are seen.
/end
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
