Noonie's Eulogy

Dear Grandpa,

You were only 51 years old when I was born. The other day, Mom told me the that when I was a baby, you would put me in a snuggly and take me out for walks in New York and people would look at you like you were my father and I was your little girl, and although we are more than one generation apart, you have always treated me like your daughter. Twenty-one years later, I finally figured out that when you said “help your mother with the dishes” you meant grandma, and when it was “listen to your mother”—well, that was really mom.

There have been several moments in my life when I’ve realized that no one in the world is like you. Your overwhelming generosity, honesty, and love for family was so inspiring and clear to me, Danny, Ross, Brookie, Jon, Austin, Tyler, and even Coopie. you rarely had to give us life lessons, because we all just hoped we could be as good as our Grandpa Herbie—I still do, and always will.

There were, of course, certain lessons that I did need to be taught. Among the many times you took on a role that exceeded far beyond that of a typical grandfather was our trip to look at Middlebury College, just the two of us. Toward the end of our tour, I skillfully guided you toward the bookstore, where I “happened” to come across a sweatshirt that I was really going to “need” for the next two cold Vermont summer nights. Seeing as it was the polite—and strategic—thing to do, I offered to buy the sweatshirt for myself. To my surprise, you took me up on the “kind” offer. I don’t believe I ever tried to hustle you, or anyone for that matter, again.

As much as you were paternal, you had your grandfather ways too, and you have always made me feel like the luckiest granddaughter in the world. You taught me how to play marbles (or as Tyler calls them, “Normals”) when I discovered your collection in the guest house, and when I told you I wanted to go back in time to a 1950s malt shop, you made me an egg cream. For my 21^st birthday card, you counted the minutes that I had been alive just to let me know how very important I was to you and have been for every single one of those minutes. As I’m sure everyone knows, breakfast was your specialty, and on any given visit we were guaranteed our choice of of bagels, lox eggs and onions, a jelly omelet, AND of course, chocolate chip pancakes.

As everyone has and will mention, it was your unparalleled generosity that has had an impact on everyone you have come across, and we were no exception. Both mine and Danny’s ever expanding collection of “vintage” cashmere sweaters is a testament to this, as you would often literally give me the sweater off your back. Whenever you caught me eying a sweater, it was only a matter of seconds before you took it off and handed it right over. You must have done this quite often, because it recently occurred to me that every one of my seven roommates is now sleeping in one of your sweaters.

I don’t even think that you knew how generous you were. The summers that I was working at camp, I would spend weekends with you and grandma, arriving every Friday dirty laundry in hand. But every time I left you would hand over a gas-money “handshake,” which made me feel like I was doing you a favor by visiting, even though it was I who felt lucky to be spending time with you.

In an effort to comfort me, Grandma told me yesterday that you’re not really gone, because there is so much of you in me—and in my brothers and cousins, I know she is right. When I see Danny’s independence and work ethic, Ross’s warmth and love for family, Brookie’s incredibly mature values, Jon’s sense of humor and famous Yalof eyes, Austin’s brains, Tyler’s smile, and Coopie’s constant happiness, I know that I can always find a little bit of you in them whenever I need my grandpa again.

Love,

Lauren