My mom passed away this week. A holocaust survivor. A nurse. A baker. A chef. Mom to 3. Grandmother to 8. Great-grandmother to 2. She died peacefully, on her very adamant terms, surrounded by her children. At her burial, my youngest niece said “she escaped the ultimate horror of our time, came here speaking no english, built a life and a career, raised three boys, and nurtured us all to love people, do good things, work hard, fuck the nazis. She was an unapologetic badass.” Mom was 92.
3/3
15 minutes later my brother texts “hey mom wants to make sure you wanted her ITALIAN meatball recipe because thats what she gave you”. It was. They were fucking delicious. It was the last time I spoke to her. Thanks mom, the wet bread and parmesan made all the difference.
I’m so sorry for your loss 💜
Your mom sounds like an extraordinary woman who left a special family legacy.
Your story of your final conversation is so touching—her essential caretaking drive was present all the way to the end. What a gift to all of you 💜
@Minholkin
yeah - i am so glad it was something of substance, a shared love of cooking, and not just a perfunctory discussion about how everyone was doing. Thank you so much...