By Eli O. Meltzer, M.D.

Mom was born in Philadelphia on June 21, 1910.  About 10 years ago she received a letter, some kind of an official type document.  It listed her birth date as June 24.  Subsequently, she reported that date, though the rest of us felt no change was necessary after 80 plus years.  Besides, June 21 was the first day of summer, and, in Philadelphia, that was just about perfect.  The weather then was not cold and the sky not gray and raining.  It was also not yet hot and humid.  Mom’s temperament was like that first day of summer, so we kept celebrating her on June 21.

Her given name was Margaret but she was known throughout her life as Marge or Margie.  She had no middle name.  Her Hebrew name was Miriam.  Her parents were Joseph (or Joshua) Goldberg and Anna Shulman Goldberg Horwitz.  They emigrated as young people from Eastern Europe.  Grammy was about 16 years old when she left Kominitz Spdoltz, near Kiev.  Gram was able to find work easily as a young girl because of her skill as a seamstress.  She could really make anything, from a hat to a wedding gown, and for most of her life Mom wore the clothes made by her mother.  She also considered Gram to be her best friend.

Mom grew up in North Philadelphia.  She had a brother 2 years younger than her named Owen.  At age 4 he contracted paralytic polio and died.  My middle name is Owen to honor him.  Mom’s baby brother’s given name is Roland but he has always been known as “Mickey.”  He has called me “Buddy” throughout my life and he has referred to Mom as his “second mother.”  Believe me, once Mom assumed that maternal relationship, it was a lifetime commitment.  I know first hand about that.

Mom went to Girl’s High School, one of the city’s best academic secondary schools, for the first 2 years.  Then, with the Great Depression, the banks and buildings and loans offices closed, her father lost his money, and, to be prepared to go to work, she switched to a commercial tract at Germantown High School.  Some of her early after school jobs were in a 5 and 10 cent store, a department store, a Tasty-Cake factory and a dental office.

After high school, Mom enrolled at Temple University in the School of Dental Hygiene.  After graduating, and being the only Jewish girl in her class, she was offered internships at either Jewish Hospital for $10 a month or at The Federation of Jewish Charities for $10 a week for 5 days a week working from 9AM to 5PM.  She chose the Federation job and worked there for 2 ½ years taking care of patients from orphanages and day nurseries.  She later worked for dentists in private practice, cleaned our teeth in our upstairs bathroom and, at the time of her death, still had her box of dental instruments.

One night one of her patients invited her to dinner.  There she met my dad, Jacob.  According to Mom, they dated for “quite a while” and, when Dad proposed, Mom initially did not accept.  Apparently, Dad sat on her porch until she changed her mind.  The bride and groom were both virgins when they were married at Beth Shalom Synagogue on February 28, 1933.  They honeymooned on board the ship “The Georgic” visiting Haiti, Jamaica, Cuba and the Panama Canal.  For the first several years of their marriage they lived with Mom’s parents.  Their next move was to our family home on Fairhill Street where they lived for 52 years.  Our four-story red brick home with detached garage and a big oak tree in the back yard changed little over that time span. The furniture, some with plastic covers, stayed in the same place.  Only upholstered chair slipcovers and winter and summer carpets were rotated. 

Mom’s first pregnancy ended with an 8 month stillborn baby girl.  Subsequently, she delivered my older sister, Bobbie, who, though only a 4-pounder, was described as beautiful.  Mom, though very full busted was unable to nurse her and recalled that she worked very hard to get her to gain weight.  I, on the other hand, weighed over 6 pounds, was a full term baby and was described as “easy.”  When I recently asked mom whether I was also beautiful, she said “not really.”  I said, well I saw pictures of me when I was an infant and I thought I looked quite cute.  Mom responded, “not particularly.”

During our childhood Mom first and foremost took care of us.  She used to laugh, in that wonderful, long, happy, giggling laugh of hers that it was recommended that she parent by the “hand method.”  However, although I was not always obedient, I only remember one time when Mom tried to smack me with a ruler.  Fortunately, I was too quick for her and I locked myself in the bathroom until she promised not to hit me.  When I came out…she hit me.

Although she was concerned that we ate enough (and, in addition, “people in China were starving” as if my appetite and intake affected them) her forte was not quality cooking.  Pretty much everything served was overdone.  This is probably why her soups were so good.  By the time it escaped from the stove, most of the liquid had boiled off leaving a thickened portion that was clearly able to “stick to our ribs.”  I believe if they do an autopsy on me after I die, they will find mom’s soup or her oatmeal stuck to my ribs. 

Mom played piano with us, typed my school reports and drove us back and forth innumerable times to elementary school, junior high and high school, Hebrew school and camp.  She was president of the PTA of Elwood Elementary School and Vice President of the PTAs for Akiba Academy and Beth Shalom Synagogue.  She was even my Den Mother in Cub Scouts.

She was also a wonderful volunteer for the Jewish Community.  She served as president of her local B’nai Brith Women’s Chapter and on the board of the Women’s Division of Israel Bonds.  She sold over $100,000 in bonds and was honored as a “Woman of Valor” for her efforts.  Mom continued as a volunteer even into her 80’s and 90’s.  She served as chair of the Residents Committee at the York House Jewish Senior Citizens home in Philadelphia where she moved after Dad died.  She also received a special recognition for lighting the Shabbat candles at Seacrest Village Retirement Communities, the Jewish home where she lived following her move to San Diego County  in 1998.

Mom was well regarded for the book reviews she did for synagogues, Hadassah and the Uptown Home for the Aged programs.  Mom was always comfortable and articulate at public speaking.  In her later years her favorite past time was telling her stories to anyone who would listen.  Each one would be announced, punctuated and emphasized by her signature mannerism- the raised index finger.  Even on the night before she died, when she was no longer speaking, that finger was still from time to time lifted to let us know Mom is here, pay attention, I have something I am thinking about and want to relate to you.

Mom liked dancing, singing, Canadian Club with Ginger Ale and, unbeknownst to Dad, shrimp chow mien.  However, like many women of her generation, Mom never wanted to exercise.  This latter fact exemplifies the concept that, with the right genes living to 94 is possible without ever exercising.  And her mother, Grammy, lived to age 99.  Nonetheless, Mom was tough.  She frequently reported “getting old isn’t for sissies.”  She overcame two myocardial infarctions, a fractured hip and bowel cancer.  Last year she had a corneal transplant.  She never complained about any of these.  She said, “I don’t mind the problems that can be fixed.”  What did bother her were her legs.  Standing up and walking was rough.  However, she had a unique system for managing these.  With almost every step she would mutter “Oh God.”  Never has a request for divine intervention been prayed for more fervently.  During a short trip from our dinning room to the car, 20-30 “Oh Gods” could be heard.

For much more than her walking, Mom had a real and personal relationship with God.  She experienced His/Her hand in her life.  This was most evident in her belief in B’Shert- God determining our fate.  She certainly believed that happened for me, and why I met Susie.  I trust Mom was correct and I am thankful.

I know Mom really loved me and Susie too.  One time she reported to us how annoying it was to have to take so many pills every day.  I noted how fortunate she was to have had the modern wonders of medicine to help her recover from her major illnesses and maintain her quality of life.  Besides, I said, “What is so bad about taking medications, I take some myself.”  “What do you take pills for?” she asked.  I responded, “to lower my cholesterol.”  Mom looked at Susie and then at me and said, “Well…when you lived in my home, you didn’t have high cholesterol!”

When I recently asked Mom how she wanted to be remembered, her response was “as a good Jewish girl.”  I didn’t ask her to expand on exactly what that phrase meant to her, but I suspect the elements reflect well on her essence.

•Mom was a girl, the term females used for themselves in her generation, and also a woman.  In her youth she was a real beauty and, as she aged, she maintained a certain grace.  She was a pioneer for women in graduate schools and in the workforce.  She was a dedicated mother and a fine and hamishe homemaker.

Mom, we were blessed by all you provided for us and by yor presence in our lives. We will always remember you and miss you.  We love you and wish you an eternity of peace.