I come from a family with a decent track record for longevity. At the age of thirteen, I had four grandparents and two great-grandparents intact. After my great-grandpa Meyer died, my great-grandma Molly stayed with us to the age of about 102. Three of my grandparents danced at my wedding, and one is still alive today. And up until a few days ago, I had my Uncle Mac, who lived a few miles away from me and would have turned 99 next month. He died Friday, so tonight, on the eve of his service, I just want to take a moment to remember him here.
Uncle Mac, my grandpa Benny's brother, was a really amazing person. He worked for years, first as a shoe salesman and then as a math teacher, but in his later years he became what I imagine he had always wished to be: an artist. You can see in this picture (taken about six months ago, just before his health began to precipitously decline) a variety of his works - his apartment was like a gallery with paintings, collages, sculptures, wood carvings, on every wall and surface. Even at the age of 98, he was constantly experimenting with new techniques, and squirreling way interesting scraps of fabric and labels to incorporate into his projects. He was also generous to a fault, pressing his works - not to mention chocolates and danishes - on his family and friends, always happy to share. My kids could not leave his apartment without bags of art supplies, manilla envelopes of interesting paper scrapes or yards of ribbon. And he hung their artwork in places of pride amongst his own.
The other thing Uncle Mac loved was the written word. He was always reading - The Kite Runner, a few years ago, was of great interest to him - and he loved it when I brought him my books. He had the complete collection. He even starred in one of my book videos. Yup, that's him - 97 years young - saying "No butts about it, we love to read!"
I realized when I was writing When Life Gives You O.J. that in addition to consulting Yiddish sources like The Joy of Yiddish, I could show him my manuscript and get his take. Not only did he prove to be an excellent resource (the phrase "Zorg zig nischt!" among other things, came from him), he was an incredibly thorough copy-editor. When I showed him the copy-edited galley of the book, he called me a day later and left me a voice mail that I saved. In it, he observed that the same reference to the arch support in a character's shoes appears in two spots, twenty pages apart. Neither I nor my editor nor the professional copyeditors caught this error - only Uncle Mac.
The last few months were hard on Uncle Mac and everyone close to him. Though he was not a smoker, he contracted lung cancer and it ravaged his system. The last few visits I paid to him involved him mostly sleeping, though his sweet tooth hung in there and he did enjoy some applesauce I made. I told him about my dog, Lucy, who was in similar physical health to him. She can't see much or hear much, I told him, but she's able to eat and she's not suffering. "She's like me," he said, laughing a little. The last time I saw him, he woke up when I entered the room. He apologized in advance for the fact that he knew he would soon fall back asleep, which he immediately did. But a little while later he woke up and asked for a cookie. He took a bite, thanked me for coming, handed me the half-eaten cookie, and fell back asleep.
I know Uncle Mac had a good run, and a long life. I know he was a person who was truly able to live in the moment, and who found joy in creating art and connecting with others, which I agree with him are the best things this world has to offer. During that time, he lost his parents, his wife, a brother, his sister, and his daughter, and he weathered these hardships with a calmness and inner peace that I can't imagine possessing. And he went on to make more art and find more joy. He was a really rare individual, as anyone who knew him can attest.
The bottom line, though, is that I don't want him to be gone. And I miss him a lot already.
Monday, April 25, 2011 at 10:44AM 
Here's the fabulous review. Take THAT, all you folks who say that teens don't read... and that they don't go the extra mile to support the books they love!