It's been a few days and I just can't stop thinking about Fran. She passed away Tuesday. It was all so sudden and shocking. I really liked her, with her sharp wit and wry smile. And while we never really agreed on anything politically, she was, at least, prepared to listen to the other side (sometimes). I always admired her bravery, coming to settle in Israel to be with Denise and the family, on her own, later in life. Looking on Israeli life from the outside, she never seemed to become bitter or disillusioned. Her overwhelming love for her grandsons was clearly at the centre of her life in Raanana. The boys will carry a little bit of Fran with them forever.
We shared a love of a good story. I was always amazed that despite her rather conservative politics, she was always ready to read anything from trashy modern stuff to complex murder mysteries. She enjoyed Brother Cadfael and Amelia Peabody, SciFi, Gaiman. She liked a good movie, and quite a lot of bad ones. And she could cook. She will leave a hole at Friday night dinners. Fran was an integral part of the family, inseparable in my mind from Ari, Denise, Meron, Edan and Yarden. Thanksgiving will always be Fran's holiday in my mind, although I can do without the weird fruit jello stuff (sorry, jello should be a dessert, not a salad).
There was something uniquely American about Fran. She embodies for me that down-to-earth, practical outlook on life, which I so admire in Americans. That same attitude lives on in Denise and the boys can be proud of that heritage. I really liked Fran, I should have told her that more often. I will miss her.
Water works
1 day ago
2 comments:
I loved Fran. She was hilarious, made me laugh. I will really really miss her.
It is often said that before you die your life passes before your eyes. It is in fact true. It's called living.
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Terry Pratchett
Ps: what is that pink jello "salad" called again? Weird. Think it has mayo in it. Poor thing, we gave her such a hard time about it. Amazing that she put up with us goldsmiths all these years.
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