Debbie's Eulogy

Faye (Faigie (Fannie Avrunin)) Hurvitz

Rabbi Deborah R. Prinz


Our High Holiday liturgy, specifically the Unetaneh Tokef prayer, speaks of God in the following terms: "You write and You seal, You record and recount. You remember deeds long forgotten." If we took Faye's agnosticism and eliminated God here, this would actually be a pretty apt description of Faye. For writing, recording, recounting, remembering were significant parts of Faye's life. Until three months ago, Faye would have been able to give us a full accounting of the details of her life. She had a terrific memory for people and events. Now sadly it falls to us to remember her 91 and a half years in this service of memory.

 

Since her birth in Cleveland on the winter solstice of 1913, Faye's smile, her happy demeanor, her warmth and her openness made her many friends. As a child she played piano--melodies for songs she wasn't supposed to understand the meaning of. Faye edited her high school paper, graduated high school at 16 and was the salutatorian of her class. Her mother was an exceptional woman, smart and capable, someone others turned to for advice. Much of Faye's family life in those early years focused on her disabled brother Sammy. This shaped her awareness of who she was and made her determined not to be dependent or a burden on anyone else.

Faye was also attentive to others, calling friends on birthdays, remembering family occasions with cards and gifts. She knew all the folks in the neighborhood, sharing ripe fruit from her trees. Typed single-spaced two sided letters that recorded the events of the week enabled the family in Los Angeles, New York, Cincinnati, and Israel to stay in touch.

Faye grew up with Yiddish as her first language and maintained an interest in it throughout her life. Pakn Trager arrived regularly from the National Yiddish Book Center. The YIVO membership, the Yiddishe Culture Sviva, Libbe's attendance at shule, Faye's Yiddish group at Seacrest all expressed this connection. Each child had a special Yiddish lullaby which she recorded for her grandchildren. And, she enjoyed listening and singing to that recording in the last few months. When Noam ended up at Hampshire College, the location of the National Yiddish Book Center, Faye encouraged him to get a job there. She suggested names he could drop to secure a position. We were all very excited that Avigail could be there this summer as an intern, learning Yiddish. Faye studied Hebrew over a long period of time. She really enjoyed the shelichim (representatives) to LA from Israel, she hoped to communicate with Jay's children on Kibbutz Hatzor. She would say about the progressive educational institute, Givat Haviva, (described on the sheets distributed at the funeral), "....if only everyone knew about it, there would be Peace in the Middle East."

Faye had her Progressive/socialist leanings, belonging to Americans for Progressive Israel and was extremely proud of the anti Vietnam War leaflet her family produced and distributed. I'm sure almost everyone here has seen a copy of it at least once. She proudly wore her lapel buttons, "war is not healthy for children and other living things", "I'm a scientist, let's experiment." "All mothers are working mothers." "Shalom, Peace, Salaam." She made sure to get a War Resisters League calendar to each of her children every year for about twenty years.

Unfortunately, Faye did not have the opportunity to go to college. She worked to enable her brother Bill to become a social worker while she learned shorthand at business school. She used that skill until very recently to record notes of phone conversations, to create reminder lists for upcoming phone conversations, to report about movies she had seen. None of us could read it. As a woman of her time, she helped and supported others. Her college education, she felt, came through Nate, from traveling with him to conferences, typing his notes and his papers.

When Nate and Faye met, she was known to be the prettiest of all the girls. They married relatively late, at 28 and 29. He proposed by sending her the musical phrase of "You'd be so nice to come home to." Faye had had several suitors but she would not settle for just anyone. They were introduced by Nate's brother, Mendy. Mendy's summer camp counselor had been Faye's brother Bill. Apparently Bill was not enthusiastic about the marriage because Nate was known in the neighborhood as a union organizer--speaking from soap boxes, drawing a crowd and then moving evicted folks back into houses. They needed special dispensation to get married at the Reform shul during the Omer when Nate was already a soldier in 1943.

Nate had a good life because of Faye. He might have made fun of her inability to boil water when they married (because she did not know how to work an electric stove), he might have called her Mrs. Careful, but he adored her. It was a mutually beneficial, gratifying, and fulfilling relationship. He wrote annual birthday poems for her. She typed for Nate, transcribed his notes, worked on the drafts of his articles and books, and she kept the books for the business. Faye also took good care of her in-laws, indeed she learned the importance of organizational note taking from her mother in law--little Bobe.

Nate and Faye traveled to Israel, Soviet Union, Bulgaria, Romania, Hawaii, Japan, London, for psychology conferences. In many respects, Faye kept Nate alive after his heart attacks, feeding him correctly, minimizing his stress, walking with him, learning to drive late in life, becoming a legal secretary to support the family. And when she was ready to give up that job, her boss depended on her so much he did not want to let her go. He sent "his own" housekeeper, Essie to clean the Hurvitz home, so Faye could work on Fridays.

Faye did not grow up with religious ritual at home finally learning the candle lighting blessing for Shabbat when she was already married and Hadassah Kramer wrote it out in transliteration for her. In the last few years she attended services with us, enjoying the music, following the Hebrew letters, getting to know the congregation. Faye considered herself an agnostic. To her, "God is a man in beard in heaven" she doesn't believe in.

Nevertheless, Libbe, Mark and Jay have strong memories of Shabbat in their home. It became very special--a "traditional" chicken meal, everyone dressed up, a beautifully set table, guests invited and singing and dancing followed, with Faye playing the piano. In the nursing home, one of the beauticians, looking at a picture of Faye in her twenties, asked her if she's Italian. She proudly despite the her speech difficulties (due to her recent stroke) said: I'm Jewish.

After Nate's death some 19 years ago, Faye made sure his psychology text on marriage and family counseling was published, she gifted their art collection of depictions of Eastern European Jewish life to the Magnes Museum and made sure that it was exhibited along with the publication of a catalogue. She wanted to insure a tangible record to outlast the exhibit. She made it happen. She had been disappointed that Nate's Leo Frank material was not published. She believed that Nate had been doing good work and she wanted people to know it.

The Makhela (choir) of Americans for a Progressive Israel proved to be her primary social outlet after Nate's death. That became her circle of friends and she became the recording secretary. Choir director Nitza would remark, when looking at Faye's minutes "how much it seemed we had done!"

Things became interesting to Faye through their relevance to her loved ones. She would say that the music looks pretty if Mark wrote it. When Mark edited Davka, she helped proofread the text. As I recall, she also typed a draft or two of my papers. Reading the newspaper was a way to share time and ideas with her children. She would read it, in part, for their interests--we called her a cliptomaniac... clipping social work items for Libbe, computer topics for Jay... Jewish articles for us. She also clipped for friends in areas of their interest. Thus papers were rarely thrown away. I don't think anything was thrown away.

Faye's kids could do no wrong, because they were her kids. Nate would say that she made it too easy for them. Yet she encouraged and supported. Her ambition was her kids. She sat with them as they did their work.

Faye used to come down to help us with the kids when we traveled or during the Holy Days. She especially liked Children's services and made a point of staying the day so she could be there. As time went by, Noam kept an eye on her during the Holy Days.

She really loved the people who are hers. She valued the family being together and seeing that her children and grandchildren enjoyed being together. She had her way of saying things to us:

"Take a sweater I'm cold"

"It's never too late to throw it away"

"May they want you and you be in a position to choose"

"Your name should grow in the world"

Faye also said: "As you get older you often lose your sight, your hearing or your memory. I've been blessed to keep all of these.... But the best thing you can have is Nachas fun kinder... joy from your children... and this I have in abundance." Faye kvelled at the thought of Anne catching babies as a nurse midwife; she thought it awesome whenever she saw Nora's name in the siddur, the prayerbook and proudly displayed her debate trophy in her apartment; she smiled from pleasure as Mark read to her from Avigail's thesis about creative Haggadot; she was comforted by Noam's loving presence these last few weeks; she was thrilled when Eitan's team traveled to Poland to play soccer, she enjoyed as Nadav come into his own and she loved Hila's infectious smile. Faye had nachas from all of her einachlach, her grandchildren.

Seacrest turned out to be wonderful for Faye. She could do her thing, listen to NPR, read the papers, make her notes about the movies she watched, and she could also participate in the programs, the movies, the Yiddish group and visit with the folks. Her only complaint was about those who complained. She was very satisfied with everything, even the food. Her motto of:

"Never say anything not nice about anyone and definitely do not write it down,"
won her much affection throughout her life.

In the last few months, as Faye survived two strokes, two bouts of pneumonia, making a very decent recovery at first, we realized once again that she has been both physically strong and emotionally strong. She had exercised with Jack La Lanne, used the "twister", she walked, at Seacrest, did the exercise classes and tai chi.

In addition to being a wonderful wife, mother and grandmother, people liked her, the Baldwin Hills neighbors she befriended on her daily walks, the LA friends some of whom kindly made a trip to visit her recently, the folks at Seacrest, the staff at the hospital and at her the nursing home.

Faye did not like losing even a bit of independence when arthritis made it hard to put on sweaters and shoes. All the more so did she not want to burden her children with the indignities of the strokes. Fortunately the Madsens had visited just before the stroke, family members have been able to visit her, to tend to her needs, to read to her, to sing with her. Mark has kept Faye going, engaged her to speak, read and sing after strokes, was at the nursing home several times a day, annoyed when details not right... found food she would eat, set up the computer to run family photos, played recordings he knew meant a lot to her, could usually tease into doing what she needed to do and could understand what she was trying to say. She could identify photos and responded with recognition, much of the time, to the record of her past.

We knew how sick she was when the smile came less frequently, she stopped connecting to people and she no longer responded to photos. This has been a heartrending time, coming to understand that Faye would not go on and on as she had until now. It was terrible watching her slow decline, worrying about her food intake, concerned about her frustration at not being able to make herself understood, fearful that she might choke again. Yet she made her decisions and we understood them.

Oddly it was also a wonderful time. Her initial healing was just remarkable for a woman of over 91. For a couple of months we still saw the Faye we knew in her laughter, in her responsiveness to people, in her appreciation of others. Family made sure she had ice cream, friends made sure she had company, people read to her (Aaron Lansky's "Outwitting History"), she sang along with familiar tapes and she had the opportunity to view a slide show record of her life--over and over (and over) again. We each had the opportunity to say goodbye. She died peacefully in her patterned way, 3 months, almost to the hour, after the first stroke.


Now we are left to cherish the record of Faye Hurvitz's full life of family devotion, to recount her passion about peace and a better world, to write about her Yiddishkeit... and to hold all of that close to our hearts. We know her memory will be a blessing.


Monday July 18, 2005

Jay's Eulogy

Faye [Avrunin] Hurvitz