My Dad made the newspaper never during his lifetime, but clearly when he died. The Detroit papers, are not like our Reno paper. In the Reno Gazette, the obituaries are relatively prominent. Death notices are right on the front page. In fact, they are detailed in ways not often found in other papers. I find myself reading them to see what really mattered in someone’s life enough to survive their death… Then, there are also memoriams to allow people to remember those that died…that is equally important to me..as what matters currently to everyone left behind in this imperfect world becomes even more evident.
My father died only two weeks ago and we had to put together an obituary for a man who, in all ways, was more simple in his life than I ever thought as a child. To all of us, there was never question of “what mattered” to Dad. He was immediate, direct, and consistent in letting us all know. Even if felt he was stubborn and unfair, something so many kids feel about their parents, we were never confused about what he was saying to us.
As we gathered around him in the last year, we all knew this was probably the last year. He also knew something was changing. He spoke less, laughed less. What mattered to him, however, just as it had always been, remained self evident as his options narrowed and his capacity lessened.
I wrote an obituary for the Jewish News much of which they did not print because they just don’t print “whether a parent is a good person.” So, I am including here what they did not print in order to put out into the universe:
“While most obituaries give the facts about someone who died, we, his children, want to celebrate and share the richness of our Dad’s journey. The legacy he leaves is rich with love, learning, passion for life, a naughty sense of humor, a work ethic that takes no vacations, pride in honesty that had no exception, a sense of ‘on-time-ness’ that made us all clock fanatics, and value of family that will live well beyond him.
Al Mazer had a fabulous life! Having married his first love, Beatrice, our Mom, first as an elopement at the age of 18, then because of the draft at the age of 20, and then finally in the synagogue at the age of 21. Our grandparents only knew about the last marriage&never, during their lifetimes, knew of any other. A little over a year after Mom died, Al married his magnificent Dorothy; he was very wealthy in love and romance. In total, he was happily and gratefully married 68 years out of his 86 years of this life. He worked for 27 years for the John R Lumber company in Royal Oak. He loved his work and gave his children a driving sense of purpose and responsibility for which they are grateful (most of the time). He took up golf after he retired and played until he could no longer walk, two years ago. While he was never a great golfer, he loved the walk, talk, and challenge. His priorities were work and family, with his wife coming first at all times. That is why he did not stay alone long after Mom died. And all of us were happy about that since he just would not do well alone. Since had, in his words, been married since he was 12, he only knew how to be married. Also, Mom did not want him to be alone. He found his Dotty through a match made by two conspiring respective adult daughters, Aliza and Gail who made the Shidach (Yiddish for ‘match’). (Dotty and Mom knew each distantly, had the same birthday, and the family thinks that Mom actually made the Shidach.)
Sometimes he would say, “Al Mazer is a lucky man.” Dad had two amazing marriages in one lifetime, a fact that he reminded us of on his good days and we reminded him of on his worst days.
While he said a few years ago that he had no regrets nor apologies to make, he, indeed, made many apologies in his last years. They did not come easy to him, but when he finally stated his regrets and apology, it was authentically Dad. He was very human, something that perhaps only adult children can appreciate.
Not unlike many for whom World War II was a peak life experience, if not THE peak life experience, my Dad talked more about the war as he aged. At his funeral, the Jewish War Veterans send 8 veterans, each in their 80’s, who, one by one, saluted his flag drapped casket. Also, taps were played. At the graveside service, the Navy sent three Navy men who folded the flag and so honorably handed it to Dotty. I so wanted to call my Dad to tell him. He would love just loved this!!
While his suffering at the end was very painful to witness and for him to endure, it was short lived compared to his many good years of love. He allowed us all to love him and, even in his difficult state would often ask ‘how much love can one man take?’ ”
To answer that question, we sent him off with what we felt mattered to him: Many pictures of all of us, with his two women right on top of the pile; our L’Chaim CD (which he listened to until his last breath), a rented DVD of the “Guns of Navarone” (his most favorite movie of all time), his golf putter, three golf balls, his golf gloves, his NAVY cap, a signed letter from Dotty with the lyrics of their favorite song, and a hankerchief.
