-Daniel Katz Orlow, my brother, gave the following eulogy at our mother’s funeral. Sorry for the typos

I really just want another minute—just to hold your hand. I think I made you laugh the last time I saw you—and I thought I would see you tomorrow. All the grandkids and nephews and your niece think of you—Yoni, Keren Eytan, Razi, Lev, Gabriel, Yadid, Yishama, Emmi, Libi, Caleb, Eli, Jonah, Annabella, Sam, and Jack. For myself, I hope you know that you are Jesse’s deliciousness. Aliza and Katya just love you. Zeke will guard you in his heart.

It’s been almost 5 years and here we are again, watching you with PJ for one last eternal dance, and perhaps even with Alfred and Lotte, Ellen and Ernie, and the Bund to look after you. Everyone saw how the surgeries and time had dimmed your light, and how much you missed PJ. I am still getting phone calls for PJ. I used to tell you about them, and I know you liked knowing that he was not forgotten. As I look around today, I hope you know you won’t be forgotten either. Truth be told, I have so many stories I could share right now -From Grasmere to Hagys Ford to Rock Hill to Sibley, and from  Loveladies, to Upper Neola, to the  Berkshires, and from Sailing to Sanibel- and am so sad that you now have no more stories to share. I am sure if nothing else your grandkids—really all of 20 of them since Adina and Jacob were always part of the deal. We are all here to move forward, but I doubt we will ever move on.

As I sat with you last in the kitchen, you looked at me and then looked out the window and smiled a small distant smile. I asked what you were looking-  at why were you smiling –could you tell me. You said no. Two days later I had a dream where PJ was standing nearby and waiting—young with his quiet way of determination—and I think I could make out the silhouette of his red convertible. So I don’t know what to think about what you saw when you looked away. Maybe you were finally losing your fear. Maybe the toll of your pain finally began to ease. Maybe Opa was asking you to go horseback riding. Maybe I am just searching for meaning because I am such a loss, and you were just ready to move on. I don’t know.  I know you would have loved everyone being here—one last big event. You knew how to make an entrance and this a great exit.

So maybe this is where you get the real lifetime achievement award—this moment as a celebration of your legacy. So, on your behalf, I want to make a special note of mention here besides grandchildren but the ones that made all of that possible—spouses Doron, Susan, Sara, Adina, Dan Sarah. Also your colleagues and friends from the Philadelphia Jewish Community, our family in Israel, your cousins Jeff and Gary and their spouses Phyllis and Leslie, and all those from your professional life. Thanks as well to Rachel—Rachel I hope you know that while this was Eve’s time it is not your time. Thanks to Carol—you really made her happy. Thanks to the Merry Widows Supper Club, and so many other conspirators who became part of your day and with whom you share so much mischief and meals. It’s hard to figure out all the things you were because you were so many. Booboo, Dr. Muti, Oma, Dr. Orlow, instigator, counselor, friend, provocateur, teller of Eve-isms, critic, champion, dog lover, hostess to so many dinners and events, networker, mom, cook, collector, and the list goes on.  Your memory is truly a blessing. 

Love you mom.