Eulogy for Leah

By Dale Napolin Bratter

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Finding a theme for this eulogy has been incredibly difficult for me. Each time I started to write, I was overcome with emotion, as well as the crushing realization that it’s impossible to sum up Leah’s life in a matter of minutes.

 

The words finally began to flow when I realized I had a perspective no one else had. I am the only person on earth who can claim Leah as a sister, and I know things about her that no one else does. I’d like to share a few of them with you.

 

The first thing I’m going to tell you about, has a direct correlation to why I struggled so much writing this. Leah was the go-to eulogizer for our mother’s side of the family, the Alters. It was not surprising that her eulogies, like everything else she wrote, were exquisite; filled with family lore and humor; peppered with historical and literary significance; and capable of making ribs ache from laughter and hearts ache from loss. I have saved copies of every one she wrote.

 

As far as I know, there was only one eulogy Leah wrote for a relative on the Napolin side. She wrote it in November 1990 and it’s titled, “Remarks spoken at the grave of Chaya Raizl Napolsky.” Rose, her Americanized name, was our paternal grandmother, our father Moe’s mother, whom we never met. She died at the age of 36 in 1898.

 

One of our cousins did extensive research into the Napolin family tree, discovered the location of her grave on Staten Island, and then organized what turned out to be a very small cadre of only four family members who made the journey to the cemetery. These remarks, which Leah read at the gravesite, were intended to “introduce” Rose to her descendants.

 

Dear Grandma Rose – well, finally we’ve come. There are four of us: Dale Judith, your granddaughter, youngest child of your youngest son Morris; me, Leah Rose, Morris’s first-born and named after you; Janice, a great-grand daughter, oldest grandchild of your second son Jacob; and Michael, great grandchild of Jacob – and, your GREAT-GREAT GRANDSON!

 

This is a moment we’ve been waiting for for a long time. But you’ve been waiting even longer. And the distance we’ve traveled can’t be measured in miles alone. Standing here on this windy hillside, I sense the journey’s not over because it’s a journey with no beginnings and no endings – like life itself.

 

From the eight children you bore in the course of your short lifetime, a large and diverse family has grown, and changed – like the world. Many are the branches of the tree and many are the leaves on the branches.

 

Grandma Rose, was your life hard? Were you happy? What color were your eyes? Who you were is a mystery to us, and perhaps will always remain so -- as the seed is a mystery known only to God.  Yet some of that seed, with its dreams and passions, its longings and fears, its sadness and joys, resides within us, and as we invent ourselves, perhaps we discover you.

 

Grandma, bless you.  Rest in peace.