Herb Yalof Loved A Parade

There was nothing more fun than waking up at 4am to drive to NYC with my dad to be in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Day Parade. I always felt like I was stealing an extra day and it was a place of sheer happiness. This was the year that we held the big bird balloon. Thank you so much Paul for sending this picture. 

Happy Birthday Dad 3/18/13

This was a great day with my dad at the Jet's game. He loved sports - watching only. Not a day goes by where I don't think of Herbie Y and appreciate what an amazing father he will always be. His voice lives in  inner voice and what a smile. Had to share! 

Thinking of Dad

Just thinking about my father and how although this is technically where he now resides, he is with me everyday in every big decision I make.  

Herb Yalof's Dream Auction

Sunday and Monday

The Auction will be held at the William A. Smith Gallery

W.A. Smith Auction Gallery in Plainfield, NH
When: Almost Everything is on Sunday and a few pieces on Monday September 5 & 6 2010
at 1:00 PM
Click here for a Detailed Listing


It is a two day Auction almost everything will be on Sunday with other peoples stuff mixed in
For the LOTS click Here

Donations

Many of you have been so kind to ask where you can send donations in honor of my father, Herbert Yalof. We would appreciate greatly if they could be sent to the Norris Cotton Cancer Center please see info below. Thank you again. Suze


NORRIS COTTON CANCER CENTER
Dartmouth Medical School
One Medical Center Drive,
Lebanon, NH 03756

Quechee Memorial / Celebration

In lieu of another memorial service, Mom has decided to host a brunch to celebrate Herb’s life for her Vermont and New Hampshire friends. The brunch will be held on October 11th from 11-2.
The location is:
206 Remember Baker Lane,
Quechee VT,
05059

Looking forward to meeting you. XO Suze

Stephen's Eulogy

Before I talk about my Dad I wanted to thank one of his dear friends, Dr Mark Israel ,  for all of the support, guidance, advice and friendship that he provided to our entire family over the past 3 and half weeks.  Dr Mark Israel is the chief of the Norris Cotton Center at Dartmouth Hitchcock Hospital and one of my dad’s closest friends.  He was our rock, available to us 24 / 7 throughout our journey– during which time he lost his own mother.  For that we are all sincerely grateful to you and so profoundly sorrow for your personal loss.

And in the end the Love you Take is Equal to the Love you make.  My mom and I are the kind of people that always have a song playing in our heads.  This one has been playing for weeks  . . . . . . .

If you knew my dad, you would know that he was a lover.  He loved the City and he loved the Country.  He loved cashmere and he loved flannel.  He loved modern art and he loved antique collectibles.  He loved caviar and he loved pancakes.  He loved long walks and he loved his four-wheel drive.  He loved the New York Times and he loved the Quechee Valley News.  He loved to work and he loved his retirement.   But, most of all, he loved his family. 

My dad was an incredible father, mentor, role model and friend and he had a special connection with each of us. 

One of my earliest connections to my dad was through music.  I remember taking long day trips with the family to places like Hackelbarny Park, Flemimngton NJ or Uncle Spike’s house down the shore in Dad’s Lincoln Continental.  Leslie, Suzy and I jockeying for position in the back seat was always a source of potential stress.  So Dad would pop a tape in the 8-track player, and whether it was James Taylor or Carly Simon or Carol King or A Chorus Line, the car instantly became a calm and wonderful place filled with great music, and all of us singing along - and there was peace in the back -- even if you had the middle seat.   That was my first real taste of the power of music –which would later become an integral part of my life.

Dad’s favorite was Bobby Short.  He grew up splitting time between New York and Miami with his friends Paul and Buddy and Bobby Short provided the sound track.  A few years ago I was at a cocktail party and Bobby Short entertained with a short set of his classic songs.  After the set I approached him and introduced myself as the son of a long time fan.  He was thrilled and asked my fathers name, signed a disc and shook my hand.  I stepped away from the piano and grabbed my cell phone, called my Dad and told him  - Dad you are not going to believe who I just met.  As I was telling the story, I got a tap on my shoulder – I turned around and it was Bobby.  He took the phone out of my hand and spent the next ten minutes chatting with Dad, about music and life!  It was an incredible moment for me to experience – Dad on the phone with one of his life-time heroes.  And when I finally got the phone back – I could tell in his voice that it was an epic moment for him too.

We also connected through sports.  Dad loved basketball and football.  An avid fan of the NY Knicks back in the late 60’s and early 70’s I was fortunate to sit shoulder to shoulder with dad during the Knick’s glory years.  We attend games as a family  at Madison Square Garden.  The arena was the one of the most amazing places on earth.  We always had great seats and I was convinced Dad new the players personally – since he freely yelled instructions to them from his seat.  I’m sure they listened; he was after all on a first name basis with all of them, like Clyde, Willis and Pearl.  I remember before a Saturday afternoon game against the Washington Bullets during the great run in 1972 – we saw Bullet’s Center Wes Uncel walking into the arena.  My dad shouted over -  “hey Wes” and he stopped in his tracks and looked at my Dad with his signature curled-lip snarl.  I was terrified but Dad looked right at him and said “I want to introduce you to my son Stevie”.  I was nine and he was the meanest, tallest and biggest person I had ever seen in my entire life.  He walked over, cracked a huge smile and shook my hand.  For years I wondered if Dad really knew him, or if Wes – was just in a rare good mood. 

As for the New York Jets . . . . . Believe it or not Dad was always a Giant fan.  And I grew up a Giant fan.  I even had a New York Giant Mighty-Mac winter coat Dad bought me at Bamberger’s as proof!  Until that fateful day in 1988 when Dad came home from work and told me, “Great news!  I acquired 8 tickets on the sunny-side behind the home team bench on the 35 yard line”.  I of course assumed they were for the Giants.  But alas . . . --- and that’s when I started the long and often painful transition from Blue to Green.  And much to my friend’s Brad and Dave’s chagrin – the transition took.  But at the end of the day it wasn’t about the Giants or the Jets -- Blue or Green -- it was about continuing the tradition of spending Sunday afternoon’s with my Dad – talking about work and friends and life and watching a little football.  When Dad and Mom moved to Boston and then VT years ago, I kept the tickets and now that Sunday afternoon tradition lives on with my son Jon and I.  In retrospect, I think that was always part of his plan.

If you knew Dad then you knew how incredibly funny and quick witted he was.  He was always prepared with a quick comeback if challenged, however he was much better at listening to a joke then he was at telling one.  He left that up to his two brothers Harvey and Philly, both recently departed, but still the sunshine of his life.  They were three brothers of the closest order and all of us 8 kids between them grew up together listening, laughing and learning from their amazing example the importance of the family.  

And as funny as he was he had an equally serious side.  He lived by a set of old fashion values, instilled by his father Albert, and passed on to Leslie, Suzy and I.  At the core was the virtue of hard work.  He believed that you could accomplish anything if you truly applied yourself.  If you asked him “ what do you want for your birthday day, he would simply stay – work hard and get good grades. “  That was the only thing he ever asked for and I find myself – when asked the same question by Brooke and Jon – answering the exact same way.  He never considered himself the most talented, best educated or even the cleverest guy in the room (even though he probably was).  But he always knew that he was the most honest and hard working and credited those two virtues as the cornerstones of his success.  And he was smart, scary smart.  Sunday Times Crossword Puzzle smart, bet it all on Double Jeopardy smart! He amazingly knew the answer to every question and if he didn’t he would pull out the encyclopedia (remember those) and look it up with us until we both knew that answer.

And he was brave.  Over the past several weeks we learned how brave he really was.  From the moment he was diagnosed and map of his future rolled out in front of him he made a decision.  One that considered the magnitude of treatment coupled with the low probability of success.  Guided by the experience of his mother and brother and the selflessness of heaping his burden on the shoulders of those he loved the most.  He wanted to enjoy a swift and comfortable journey tuned to the rhythm of his family’s flow.  So he called my sisters and I separately, explained his course and asked us all for his support.   Which we all pledged immediately.

What followed were several magical days this past weekend in the Vermont home that he loved.  Where we collected together as a family and where each of us had  a quiet moment alone to say the things some never get to say.  And on that beautiful fall,  VT afternoon, with Leslie, Suzy Mom and I holding him in our arms - - he opened his eyes to look at us all and decide that he was at peace. 

Less than 12  hours later – our family was blessed with the birth of a new child, who Mom believes had encountered Dad in their transition.  If he grows up with a passion for Texas Hold E’m and sunflower seeds we will know for sure.

I will close with this last lesson – and that is the lesson of love.  My Dad loved my Mom with all of his heart and all of his sole.  They met over fifty years ago and have seldom been apart since.  They were best friends, sole mates and partners in the truest sense of the word.  And although that love has been obvious to me, Liora my sisters their husbands, our kids and to every one who ever had the pleasure of knowing them, it was never more evident than over the past few weeks.  Where I saw their love tested in ways I can’t even describe.   Mom I’m in awe of your strength, your loyalty your compassion and your leadership.  And as a family we will all miss dad together  .

And in the end  - the love you take is equal to the love you make!

Leslie's Eulogy

Growing up as Herb Yalof’s daughter was a treat. When the other kids on the block were getting the latest and greatest toys, I always got the latest in fashion. When I was six years old the hot new item was a paper dress. My father brought one home for me on a Friday night and I put it on the next morning. It was a day we were headed to the zoo. I was so proud of my new paper dress, until we got to the petting zoo area. There, while I was feeding the chickens, a goat came up and started eating my dress. My knee length paper dress soon became a mini-skirt and threatened to become even less than that. My dad merely turned to me and said, well now you really have the latest fashion.

Through out much of our childhood, on Sunday mornings, Dad would wake up and ask us, who isn’t doing something today? There was always one of us who had no plans. At which point, he would say, O.K. you and I are going out, you have 30 seconds to decide where you want to go and then I am picking (his pick would have been foxwoods, had it been around at the time.) I once asked to go to a restaurant for lunch which was in Amish Country, 2 and 1/2 hours away. Without blinking an eye he got in the car and away we went. I am still amazed that my father would drive so far just to have lunch at a place I requested. But that was my dad. He would do anything for anyone.

His generosity of spirit went far beyond his own family. One story among many typifies my dad’s generosity. Macy’s had an executive elevator that was run by an elevator operator named Benny. At least once a month, Benny would admire my father’s tie. He would say to my dad Mr. Yalof, I really love the tie you are wearing. Without hesitation, my dad always said, Benny, since you like it so much, I want you to have it. And with that he pulled off his brand new tie and handed it over.

Not only did he enjoy doing for others, he also made sure we always felt special about what we did for him. Each father’s day, my dad had a tradition of wearing to breakfast all the gifts we had given him. Once, when we were all already grown, I with two young kids of my own, we celebrated father’s day in Vermont. I think Suze gave my dad cotton pajama’s which he loved, Stephen gave him a tie, my kids gave him a gator hat and I had given him a wallet. Imagine the site when he came down in a tie, a gator hat and a wallet tucked in his new pajamas. And he would wear it the whole day, letting us know that what we chose for him was just perfect.

I would be remiss without acknowledging what a remarkable grandfather he was. A few years ago, when my kids were in need of a little extra TLC, on several occasions, my dad awoke early on a Sunday morning to make the drive down from Vermont to Larchmont in time for breakfast, just to make his special chocolate chip pancakes. These pancakes became so legendary and important that three weeks ago, when we were all together and he was really weak and sick, he got out of bed to make sure his seven youngest grandchildren got their pancakes. He wanted to show them he was o.k. On our way home that weekend, Ross even said to me, Grandpa is fine, he made us our pancakes.

And that is exactly what my dad wanted until the end, to make sure we knew he was fine. He wanted to take care of us, not for us to take care of him. This past weekend, we had a running joke that despite the fact that my dad was only semi-conscious, he was still able to throw me out of the room every time I offered to help him. He didn’t want us to help him, he was the strong one, our leader and the boss. (Although my Mom did give him a run for the money these past few weeks, showing that she is stronger than anyone) Suze, Stevie, my Mom and I all agreed that the remarkable swiftness with which he left this world was by his own design and on his own terms. He took care of us until the end, making sure that we would not suffer for a long time worrying about or taking care of him.

My father was a remarkable man. He was smart, handsome, and incredibly funny. A few weeks ago, when he was in the hospital, which he hated, he told me that time stood still. He would look at the clock at 1:00 and then three hours later it was 1:03. I wish I could do his sense of humor more justice – I assure you, he had us laughing every day of our life.

I am sorry that my father is gone so soon, but I am grateful that Lauren, Danny, Ross and I as well as my brother and sister, brother in law and sister in law, nieces, nephews and cousins had the benefit of his teachings. He showed us by action, and not by words, how to be kind, hard working, thoughtful and generous. He taught us good manners and the importance of fine things – which, by the way, he could find just as easily at Asprey and Paul Stuart as he could at Walmart. I will miss my dad terribly but I take comfort in knowing that because of his profound influence on everyone that he touched, he will live on forever. Everyone thinks they have a great father, and I am no exception. He really was the best father I could ever ever wish for.

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

Danny's Eulogy

On the train home from school, I took out a notebook and jotted down the first thoughts about my grandpa that came to mind. With a tad of editing and a few additions, those thoughts turned into my eulogy. I tried to represent everything about my relationship with my grandpa, and to depict everything great about him, which was everything; but like my aunt Suze said, I cannot put into words how much I love and miss my Grandpa. To most, a grandpa is a far-off relative; as I'm sure you all can tell, that is not the case with mine. My grandpa was as close to me and my cousins as we are to each other and our parents and siblings, uncles and aunts; I would even call him one of my best friends. Anyone who knew him surely has their own incredible experience and relationship with the great Herb Yalof; here is mine:

My grandpa is the best guy in the world.

He is the reason I stand up straight, he is the reason I hold the door open for ladies, and he is the reason I have a strong handshake. (I should mention that all of this is, of course, in thanks to my grandma as well.) He is the reason I always have tissues in my left pocket, though I think he preferred a handkerchief himself. He is the reason I’m not afraid to strike up conversation with strangers, and the reason I’m enthusiastic about trying new things. He’s the reason I know when and how to look presentable, and when to dig my hands into the dirt. He’s the reason I know how to crack a lobster shell, and how to reel in a tuna 30 miles out to sea. He is the reason I know what a 4-pound hamburger tastes like, and the reason that I know what actually happens at auctions. He bought a toaster for my house to use when he visited, because he did not like the way ours worked—yes, he visited that often, and yes, we have 2 toasters; but that’s not all: thanks to him we have a waffle iron and a single-cup coffee maker too!—he always was at the front edge of technology, especially when it came to new modes of playing solitaire. He’s the reason I’m not in gambling debt… and the reason I was in it to begin with. He is the reason I know what a breath of fresh Vermont air tastes like, and the reason I know what a handful of fresh Vermont snow tastes like. He makes me feel like a computer genius with his frequent phone calls full of questions about ipods; I never had the heart to tell him that any teenage boy can do what I do these days.

He is the reason I go out of my way to see my friends perform in plays and concerts, and he is the reason I look forward to being with my family. It was he who yelled at James Reddicliffe to pass me the basketball, and it was he who cheered for me when I almost made that tackle in peewee football.

He’s the reason I never lose sight of what’s important to me, and the reason I’m always looking for what matters to me. He’s the reason I smile so often and the reason I laugh when others don’t. He is the reason I make the most of every day.

He always knew how to make others happy, and he took every opportunity to do so, and it is because of my grandpa that I do the same.

-Herb's grandson Danny

Suze's Eulogy--more to come

It was so amazing to see so many people we love in one room. We took the largest room at Riverside Memorial and were so surprised that it was so full that people were actually standing in the back. I couldn't believe when I went up to deliver my Eulogy that my son Austin stood up with me and said he had to go to the bathroom. It proved to be the ultimate icebreaker and helped me not completely break down when I spoke. I was totally overwhelmed in the best possible way to see everyone from my next door neighbors growing up,to all my cousins and my, Leslie's, Steven's and Mom and Dad's best friends all there, in fact, the only one missing was Dad. But all smiles aside, my family and I are emotionally on a roller coaster ride, one second we are smiling the next balling! I miss my father so much more than I could ever put into words but I am comforted knowing that he is so much a part of me and many of you and that his legacy will live on. Some of you wanted to see what we said in print so here's mine and I will post the others as I receive them. I think my dad would have appreciated that I kept it short and sweet.

My Eulogy:


I was looking for the right things to say about my Dad that would best capture his essence. I think one of my sons came pretty close when describing his favorite things about grandpa--“his pancakes and his attitude”.

The reality is that at his core my Dad was quite simply “the nicest man on the planet”. He was a good man…a great man…a gentle man…and a gentleman. His kindness, generosity, class and love for his family were unrivaled. Dad pretty much taught me everything I know.

My top 5 favorite rules:
1. Don’t wait around for things to happen but make it happen.
2. Make life easy and don’t get caught up in the pettiness
3. Have fun and be present.
4. be appreciative and never take anything for granted.
5. And Dad’s golden rule - Never confuse who you are with what you do. I live by this.

He achieved great work success, but that is never how he measured his achievement. It was all about what he could do to take care of those around him. He was selfless in his desire to make sure that everyone was happy and no one lacked. He was the consummate host and it wasn’t a chore for him—it was a passion. He took my friends in as if they were part of the family. A number of them are here today, not to comfort and support us, but for him and the impact, however small, that he had on their life. This is the ultimate tribute. Even in his last days, my Dad was focused on others and not himself. He found this great cane at Orvis and everyone at the hospital was complimenting him on it. Just this past Saturday, he asked Marc to track down and purchase five of them so he could go hand them out to those that wanted them. That was my Dad! Oh and let me know if you want one.



Most importantly, all of these amazing qualities enabled him to be an incredible father to me, Leslie and Stephen, an amazing husband, and the BEST grandfather. He loved our boys and even though they were #’s 6, 7, and 8, he treated them like #1, #1 and #1. We can only hope that some of these qualities make their way to our kids, and the goodness of Herb will live on in the next generation.

When Marc explained to Austin what was going to happen today, Austin replied that certain civilizations bury people with their favorite things and asked whether we should bury grandpa with a pound of tongue. I hope they serve pastrami, caviar and 18 year old Macallan and that he is getting red in the face laughing his head off with his brothers Phil and Harvey.

I always felt that I could tell my father anything and everything and I did. So this week, when it was time to say goodbye, there was nothing more to say. He knew how I felt and told me that.

Memorial Service NYC

The funeral will be held on Wednesday, Sept. 23 at 1:15 pm at Riverside Memorial Chapel. The Address is 180 West 76th Street. The address is 180 West 76th Street (on Amsterdam Avenue) We will be sitting shiva at Stephen and Liora's house, 114 East 72nd Street Apt. 4B on Wednesday following our return from the cemetary until 8:00 p.m. and Thursday from 2-4 p.m. and 6-8 p.m. We will sit shiva at Leslie's house, 25 Echo Lane, Larchmont, NY 10538 on Friday Sept. 25 from 11:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m.

Herb Yalof 3/18/37 to 9/21/09

I have to change my position on what I said about dying at home. It is amazing. My mom and I were sitting on her bed and I looked at my father and noticed that his eyes opened wide and I knew. I touched his leg and wished him an amazing journey told mom to go next to him ran downstairs and told Leslie and Steve to come up and we held his hand and body as he laid in bed circled by us. He looked at us as we hugged each other and said goodbye and told him we would be fine and always be a family. We were all with him when he took his final breath. It truly was an amazing family experience as if watching a live birth of the soul. I don't really think I can describe it but letting him go feels so much better than watching him die. We all feel the same way. That my father did this for us. That he didn't prolong his suffering and our suffering with him. He was so brave throughout this entire thing as was my mother. Leslie, Steven and I are in such awe of our parents. We are talking about the arrangements and will keep you posted here. We would love for all of our friends and family to be with us. We will have two memorial services one in NYC and one in Queeche. Stay tuned for more details. XXOO Suze

Message From Steve

Greetings from VT

It is beautiful here and the leaves are starting to change.

Dad's condition continues to worsen. As Suzy and Mom shared with you all he has elected to take the hospice route and in so doing the sole protocol is comfort. There are no IV's. No forced feedings. Nothing that is designed to prolong life. simply medicine to reduce the pain, the occasional sip of water when he can hold it down and hand holdings, kisses and words of comfort from all of us.

The hospice nurse assured us that he is in a comfortable place and that he is in a dream state organizing in his mind his transition. He recognizes us when we sit with him but he has slowly become less aware and more at dream. His body is beginning to shut down and we feel that he is enjoying his last hours with us.

He is so amazingly brave. He chose this course of action and like everything else that he has done in his life he has taken complete control of this situation. He lived his own way and by his own principals. Principals that he has instilled in each of us and will live through us as his legacy I'm in awe of his bravery but so sad that he he has to go soon.

Steve

Hanging with Herb

I am sitting here lying on dads bed as I write to you all. I just spent an hour talking to him about all the great times we have shared together and all the amazing people who are waiting for him. I could hear the calmness in his breath as he heard me tell him that we are all happy and relaxed and feel good about his next stop. I then ran out of material and opened up all your emails and read him the abbreviated highlights which were so wonderful. I swear he smiled. Every so often he opens his eyes and mom gently strokes his face and kisses him and he loves when she does that. Mom said that she feels like this is such an honor to take care of him and let him have his wish of passing at home. I am not going to sugar coat when I say that it is not easy, hospice visits but they don't stay. I won't go in to details but Leslie said not joking that, "No one is allowed to die at home anymore!" (it made us both giggle) - I'm on her team. This is team work and it really does feel amazing to be part of it. Mark and Susan Israel came by last night and Mark told us that he sang lullaby's to dad and he loved it. So we put on XM Classical radio and it really does have a soothing effect on him. XXOO Suze

Takeherbie

I remember my Uncle Harvey telling me the story that he thought my Dad's name was "Takeherbie" until he was 9, because Grandma Ruth would always say, "Take Herbie" whenever Dad's brothers Phil and Harvey left the house. Well, last night my cousin Cathy emailed me to ask me how it was going, and as I was watching my father in severe physical pain, I wrote back to her that I had just prayed to God that Harvey and Philly would "Take Herbie". This morning when I woke up and went into dad's room I saw the look in his eyes, and as he tried to stand up, I knew that this was it. The brothers are coming just as I asked them to. I immediately called Steve and Leslie who came up with Liora and Noonie. Amy/Angel from hospice, explained to us that Dad is actively dying. She told us what we need to do to make his process as easy as possible. As Amy was speaking , we all noticed that it was the first time in over 12 years that a hot air balloon was going to land in our back yard. We all ran to the porch and chatted with them.Finally, instead of landing the 6 passengers decided to go up up and over our house. I remember Dad, Doug and I taking a hot air balloon ride on father's day one year and we all loved it.
This is so crazy - how can this happen so quickly we asked Amy. She gave us a long explanation that made sense about the tumor putting to much pressure making it difficult for his kidneys and liver to function.
Right now he is resting on his bed and according to Amy, going through 5 stages of something that resembles REM. He is working things out in his mind and enjoying listening to us pretend that we will all be fine after he passes. She told us that we should hang out in his room and talk about our lives as they go on and if he makes a gesture with his face or hands to just exit - Well Leslie was the first one to be officially gestured out of his room. We all so appreciate that you understand that we need to have quite family time and how precious these last days are to us. We will keep you posted as the story unfolds . Love to you all. Suze

Hospice

The first time I ever even heard about Hospice was this Thursday when my friend Kate told me that it was the best thing that ever happened to her family. To me it is both the worst and the best. It's the worst because it means that this is actually happening and the best because someone other than mom is there to make sure that my father is comfortable, my mother has a helping hand and that it all goes smoothly. My father's wish is to stay out of the hospital and enjoy the rest of his life at peace in his Vermont home and he is being so brave. For those of you who don't know, Hospice is the program that makes that wish come true by sending nurses and doctors into your home who help you deal with pain (heavy duty medication) and absolutely everything else that comes along with this process. They even have volunteers who come for 2 hours a day to make sure that my Mom does things for herself. Apparently it is very important for my father to see that my mom continues to do things for herself to show that she will go on. Dad is worried that my mom might go into shock when she sees how much things cost. He said she is in a financial time warp - just like her mom was. Amy, our visiting nurse/angel from heaven, explained to us what we should expect to happen as Marc, Mom, dad and I all listened and tried to not break down which I have to say was not easy. Amy explained that my father will eventually go in and out of memories and she told us that when that happens we should just go with it , try to laugh and not correct him. She also said that patients wait to see their family and it is a time when all family conflicts are resolved and that he has to feel like everyone will be set. No worries there - we love each other and all get along well and will never be homeless. Marc and I said after she left that it was probably the most profound thing we ever heard even though we didn't hear everything in our heads. She gave us a list of stuff Dad needs and Marc spent 4 hours getting everything on that list including the ice cream he wanted. Today I spent a few hours hanging out on Dad's bed tape recording his memories and it was heaven. Then mom and I spent an hour sitting on the porch on the most beautiful day of the year just bonding. This is the first time in 8 years that I have been here without my kids. I could not be prouder of both of my parents - they are my rock and inspiration. How many people do you know who actually want to grow up to be just like their mother? Yes please! xoxo Suze

From Ina

My dearest friends and family. I am finally able to take a real deep breath of Vermont air. I needed that.

Herbie had a procedure yesterday which kept him in the hospital overnight where he slept and got some fluids. Today he feels so much better. I don't know how long it will last, but I'll take whatever we can get. Suze and Marc are here which brings sunshine into the house, and Herbie is relishing in spending time with them.

Tonight we lit the candles and had a blind matzoh ball taste test pitting mine against Susan Israel's. I'm not going to say which one won, but if you e-mail me, I'll be sure you get her recipe. We had a "sweet" new year - with apples, honey, wine and Flowers from our good friends the Drubels, and a chocolate angel cake from Miriam and Steve Ruzow, which brought a delicious touch of New York to our table. It also brought a brown stain to my white slacks, which of course Herbie noticed immediately. Dang!

Tomorrow, hospice is coming and I guess I'm going to be fired from some of my nursing responsibilities. I can live with that.

Thank you all so much for understanding how hard these past three weeks have been for us and for not calling as I requested. I'm in awe of how very many friends we have, but he still needs to rest. I've been reading your emails to him and he's enjoying listening to them. Please keep sending them to me at inayal@yahoo.com or posting them on the blog, if you can figure it out.

A very happy and healthy New Year to you all, with

much love Ina

Looking Good

Marc and I just arrived to find my dad sitting straight up at the computer and looking so much better than I imagined. My friend Jen told me to prepare for the worst so I was pleasantly surprised. True, he has lost a lot of weight and perhaps we can share jeans now (size 4/6) but he still looks like dad and is totally with it. We never had a more energized conversation - I guess the rittilin kicked in (it is used to give adults energy and let me tell you it works). We spoke about important things like all the crazy scams that happened at Macy's and other scams that shock us. He is still 100% Herbie.

Dad is walking with a very cool cane that he got from Orvis because his right foot has dropped - that means that it goes- toe to heel when he walks instead of the opposite normal heel to toe so he has to lift it so it lands flat. He just got off the phone with his pal Buddy and he said that the conversation was probably more uncomfortable for Buddy than for him. He can talk in bursts but too long of a conversation is draining for him and the last thing he wants to talk about is his health. He loves cards and is so touched by them. He feels much more comfortable after his brief hospital stay and ate an ice pop which he loves and so I had to have one to. Tomorrow hospice is coming because we fired mom as his full time nurse - she's now back on wife and friend duty. She looks sooooo much better (ever since I told her that if she doesn't eat she will get wrinkles that will never go away)- Do I know my mom or what? Mom is so happy that we are here and my dad feels guilty and thinks I should be home with my kids who are with my saviors Linda and Arthur aka Gaga and Popop. Linda, my mother in law and talented therapist, told me that it is OK to be sad, feel it and to let it out so I feel that you should be able to as well. If you want to write whatever you want it's your call who am I to impose happiness 24/7? Vermont is divine - the trees are starting to change and the sun is breaking through the clouds - the view from my dad's bed which is were I am writing from is perfection! I am going to try and post every day because Steve said that there are a lot of people reading this and I can't keep you hanging. Dad is happy with the decision he has made. He said most people don't know where they are going but he does and feels in control. xxoo Suze

Father Knows Best

My father and I had a very serious conversation tonight about his meeting with the oncologist and his decision on treatment. Since Dad is too weak for chemotherapy right now he would have to get stronger before they can even let him begin. The problem is that right now he has no appetite and is nauseous so he has lost a lot of weight. Basically they need to make him stronger to treat him and right now he has not been gaining strength. He is very uncomfortable and both he and his oncologist believe that there is a real possibility that chemotherapy will do more damage than good. He has decided to take the best medicine and get as much comfort as possible and forgo chemotherapy. He can't believe how quickly this has happened but has accepted the fact that it has. He said that this is the order of life, the oldest goes first and that he was happy that it wasn't out of order. If you have a huge lump in your throat right now welcome to the club. I support Dad's decision and respect his wishes and hopefully you will feel the same. Even though he is uncomfortable he is still up and about with his sense of humor intact. I know hearing from you all in the written form would be uplifting (please only upbeat and happy thoughts)and feel free to post them here on this blog in the comment section or send them to the Vermont address.