Two Years

Today, on the Hebrew date of the 6th of Iyar, is my grandmother’s second yartzheit (anniversary of her death).

At her funeral, my brother-in-law Daniel Machlis said, “before she died, my wife went to visit her, and she felt terrible because Bobby was struggling to say something but she couldn’t. I told her, don’t worry, I know exactly what Bobby was trying to tell you; ‘I love you, I’m so proud of you, you are so beautiful’.”  

She was love personified and I miss her so much.

Here are some things I am thinking about on this day.

1.     Her face. It was shaped like a heart. The skin was paper thin and so the love from inside her shone through. The way it would light up when she saw me as if she was seeing the most precious thing in the world to her. The way her warm love bubbled out of her. The way she would say, “Nechumala! Leib shein of the velt! (Beautiful heart of the world). Lichtige gidela! (Shining treasure). Tayara neshumala! (Precious soul).

2.     Her hands. When I was younger, she put my cold hands in hers and rubbed them until they were warm. the way she would play a finger game, wiggling each finger with the words, “Kizele, mazala, kutcha, kutchi kazala,” and then tickles all the way up my arm. The way she would hold my hand and stroke it as she told me how much she loves me.

3.     Her kitchen. Round table, windows around it. Crinkled newspaper and something she was cooking. The way she would sit with me by it, her blue eyes, small smile, gently listening to everything I had to say.

4.     Her room. The headboard I loved. The TV we watched dancing with the stars on. The mirror we tried on clothes in front of.

5.     The way I want her but all I have are these words and memories.   

6.     How excited she was when we saw each other after some time away. The way we would jump up and down and laugh and hug each other.

7.     Chocolate covered almonds with the cocoa dusting. The way they melted in my mouth with the coffee we drank together.

8.     Her laugh.

9.  Her advice, from fashion (“I like a belt on you with this dress”) to skincare (“very nice moisturizer, you look very nice with it”), to choosing a spouse (“good character is the most important”), to going after your dreams (“just try, it is not always up to you what will happen, but working towards what you want will give you a good feeling in itself”).

10.  How much she wanted me to be happy. How accepting my imperfect self and treating myself as well as all people kindly, is the best way to honor her when she is not here anymore.

11.  How she is a part of me and will always be and how she lives on in every good thing I try to do.

My aunt asked us to tell her what having grandparents is like because she never experienced it as all of her grandparents were killed in the gas chambers. That kind of makes me feel guilty because I know I got the better end of the deal here. I got all the love and no discipline. I got her when she was further away from the past that still haunted her, but the haunts were muted with time. I got her when she was closer to her future that even though she was still anxious about it, her anxiety was muted by life experience. I got her when she had time for herself and time for me.

So how can I tell someone who never experienced it, what having a grandparent is like. The truth is, I cant. No one sees the world the same way. I can only tell you what it was like for me to have a grandmother like her.

Yet how can I put her into words? I can tell you about the chocolate covered almonds and lichtege gidelas but how can I tell you the way my heart felt when I walked into her apartment? Her love was completely uninhibited. It gushed out of her in hugs and words of how completely amazing, wonderful, beautiful, and smart you are. How can I tell you about the way I felt most myself when I was with her. How can I tell you about her exuberance? The way she embraced life. How can I tell you about the wonder in her eyes as she looked around the world. How can I tell you how she experienced the worst hate, and she was the most loving person I knew. How can I tell you that although she was sometimes sad, and had every reason to be, she was the happiest person I knew. How can I tell you about the wisdom and life experiences that poured out of her. How can I tell you how she listened? How can I tell you how she complimented me endlessly and shamelessly and even if I didn’t always believe her, it’ll still felt good. How can I tell you how she was my hero. This wise, stubborn, funny, overflowing with love woman who had a compliment to give not only me but every “Oh my goodness, you’re so beautiful” friend I introduced her to. How can I tell you how she made me want to be brave. How can I tell you how she just got me, understood me, and loved me. I can’t fully tell you, but I do know this: she loved you too. She so appreciated you were reading her story and hearing her message. I can’t tell you what it was like having her as a grandmother, but what I can do is tell you what my grandmother would tell you. She loves you. She is proud of you. You are all so beautiful.

I asked some of my siblings and cousins to write about what it was like having her as a grandmother and a memory that stands out. Here are a few responses.

“Having someone who was always your biggest fan.
Waking up in the morning when sleeping at her house and she would wash my hands and face. I can still smell the scent of the paper towel and the gourmet breakfast with a whole packed up snack for school.”

“She asked me and my cousin to watch to watch our toddler cousin while she took a nap. We completely forgot about her. Bobby woke up to a toddler in a nice crisp white dress, scribbled on with all her makeup.  We thought she would be angry, but she took one look at her and burst out laughing and said, “oh mine God, her mother is going to have my head.” And she couldn’t stop laughing. She had so much joy in life.

“She came to Israel for my son bris. She said, ‘what can I do? What is he gonna wear I have to iron his outfit’. I didn’t think a baby’s stretchy needed ironing, but she sure did. She kept saying ‘it is such a privilege that I get to iron my great grandsons outfit’. It was ironed to a crisp.”

“The first thing that comes to mind when I think of my grandmother is sunshine, warmth, grace and beauty, a vulnerability that made me feel safe always with her. She was always verbalizing her weaknesses she thought she had, and it made me feel so safe with her, since she had a soft personality, wasn’t strong minded, bossy, or opinionated. She made me feel ok to be myself whatever it is that I liked that I didn’t have to be perfect. In her presence I could exhale and chill and talk about anything without judgement, like who’s the cuter guy on the bachelor. She was always complimenting me, and she made me feel like a million dollars. Her granddaughters and me were the most beautiful, the most kind, the most talented, the most worthy. In her presence I felt so good about myself, I was so special. Dmc – deep meaningful conversation were her favorite thing, dissecting personalities the meaning of life, she could talk for hours about it with no rush and I loved it ! While other adults in my life always seemed to be rushing and doing and running to the next errand, she had a slowness about her, a stillness a depth (probably since she was retired lol) but it was so nice to have an adult in my life that had all day to listen to me.”

“When I think of her I remember her blue eyes always lighting up as wide as saucers from seeing me, like I was the light of her life. She made me feel so special, so worthy so good.”


“Having Bobby as a grandmother was feeling like you were the most beautiful talented girl in the world. I know I’m making this selfish and all about me but that’s just the way she made you feel. She loved you unconditionally she made you feel so worthy of her love. You felt truly special and gorgeous worthy and proud. There was big a sense of pride of having Bobby as our grandmother. She wasn’t like other grandmothers; she was special and she was regal and she was saintly and proud. And that’s how she made you feel. Proud and special and loved”


“Bobby was a spark of light in my life.
She was that person in my life who would always lift me up with her showering of compliments and support. When I was with her, I felt like I could conquer the world. I always felt her love and care, and admired how she took on life with happiness and determination.
Now I always feel her presence when I look at my Rechel Chanale and see her spark of life and joy in my little girl. Bobby is telling me she is still here and not going anywhere, when I must deal with my little stubborn Rosie!!”


“A good memory of Bobby is when I went to visit her one day with my friends and she sat us down telling us to start secretly collecting money for any girl in my class that looks like she needs it teaching us the importance of caring for others”


“One of the many good memories I had with Bobby was that one night I stayed over Bobby’s house. She was so excited I was coming and so was I. The next morning, I wake up to the smell of oatmeal cooking in the kitchen. She tells me ” I put in lots of butter for you!” She sits me down with a bowl the oatmeal and an ice coffee with tons of sugar in it because she knew exactly how I liked it. I felt her love for me coming out of her food and saw her excitement in her smile as she placed them in front of me. I will always remember that breakfast, the 2 of us schmoozing, me grandmother, my best friend.”

“Bobby was the grandmother I never had. When I met her, I felt like she was 100% my Bobby. She filled a hole I always had.”