RIP Auntie Hannah Fisch

A spry 97-yr-old Auntie at Ella's 1st Birthday Party

You know how you can smell something which reminds you of a certain situation or event from your youth? Well, one of those things, for me, is matzo brie. For those of you who are not Jewish, that is basically matzo saturated with egg, almost like a matzo omelet. Auntie served hers with sugar on top, which is the way I continue to eat it today. Whenever we'd go out to Brooklyn to visit with Grandma Lilly and Auntie Hannah, the two inseparable sisters who ran the entire borough (not literally, but it felt that way), my cousins Bonnie and Hy would bring their daughters, my cousins Aimee and Jennifer and us kids would have such a good time that we would ALWAYS want to sleep over. When we did, Grandma Lilly would make us egg creams (chocolate syrup with seltzer, like the REAL seltzer in those old glass bottles with the spritzer thingy at the top) and Auntie would cook up like 10lbs of matzo brie for us. There was never any shortage of food in THAT house. Melissa and I would always go home looking forward to our next trip back.

Unfortunately, those trips became fewer and far between, especially when Grandma Lilly died several years ago (I believe it was 1999 or 2000) and when Grandma Phyllis (Lilly's daughter) died in 2006. Now, those trips will never happen again, as the dynamic duo have been reunited in a better place. Auntie Hannah passed away on Monday, November 17th. She was 98 years old.

Today was her funeral, and I learned so much about her and her life hearing Bonnie and her brother Philip speak about her. Her husband died many years ago (40+ years) when Bonnie and Philip were just children. She never remarried - she got a job and supported her 2 children on her own (with the help of Lilly of course). This may not sound too uncommon these days, but in the 1960's, it was extraordinarily rare to be a single working mother.

She was so loved by so many people. I can still hear her voice in my head - back in the old days, she would always tell me not to eat so much, while at the same time dumping spoonfulls of sugar over my matzo brie or refilling my bowl of mato ball soup for the 3rd time. She was always concerned about my weight and had NO problem saying so. I am so glad she got to see me as I am now - in fact, when I last saw her, at Ella's 1st Birthday party, she said to me "BRIAN (for some reason, whenever I recall her voice, I remember her yelling my name), you are TOO SKINNY, STOP LOSING WEIGHT! Here, eat this cupcake..." I hope she was lucid enough towards the end to have heard about my marathon experience, and I hope she was proud of me.

I am also glad she got to meet Ella. I have been told that Ella's picture graced Auntie's refrigerator (which was always FULL of food), which is an honor in itself. Hearing everyone talk today, you can tell that she meant so much to so many, and everyone has at least one amusing story of how Auntie touched their lives. Everyone says, "She was 98, she lived a good long life" but that doesn't make it any easier when someone who seems ageless finally succums to time.

As time goes on, parts of your childhood are taken from you. It's inevitable, just part of life, but it always takes its toll...makes you a bit "harder" as the reality of your own mortality sets in. As people die, you start to realize that you yourself are getting older too. Some people are saddened by this realization, but I choose to look at it differently. I choose to appreciate life, to live and to love and to celebrate the lives people have lived rather than mourn my own personal loss. I am sure Auntie would prefer it that way - with a spoonful of sugar on top.

Auntie, Melissa, Jennifer, Aimee, Mom, Grandma Phyllis, Audrey and Bonnie at our wedding - February 2005

Auntie, Angela, Me, Grandma Phyllis and Grandpa Sonny