Hesped for Helen Geffen Ziff, z'l, Wednesday, April 2, 2003, 29 Adar II, 5763, Ayshet Chayil Me Yimtza
But we have to let you go.You've touched so many lives. You will be missed by so many people in so many ways. In your youth you were a swimmer, and swimmers make waves. You've been swimming through your life for 89 years, And, the waves you've made ripple out in every direction to all those whom you touched.
You were a loving daughter to your parents Harav Tuviah and Rebbetzin Sara Hene Geffen. You were their pride and joy as their youngest daughter. And you gave so much back in return. You shared the good times as we grew up, making our summer trips to Atlanta, and bringing them to Minneapolis to be with us. You also cared for them as they got older. And, in these last few years, your efforts to translate Zayde's diaries were a solace to you and a gift to us. You used to say that your time with the diaries was your therapy, allowing you to feel connection with him even though he was no longer with us. I hope we can find a way to continue and finish your work of love.
You were a loving sister and sister-in-law. With seven brothers and sisters, and then with their spouses, and then with dad's six siblings and their spouses, you maintained loving close relationships, raising your children together, sharing the same values - commitment to Jewish life, lived with balance and deep commitment to traditional Jewish practice coupled with openness to the larger community, with commitment to service that asked nothing in return, with a true Ahavat Yisrael. You grew up in a close family and you sustained and nurtured that closeness throughout your life, despite the challenges of being physically separated with your siblings dispersed throughout the country - in Atlanta and New York, Spartanburg and Chicago, Minneapolis and New Orleans, St. Louis and Omaha. The bond with your sisters and sisters' by marriage -was so deep and close. You were each other's best friends. When you got together, wrote, or spoke on the phone, there was never an end to the conversation. You shared every joy and pain in one another's lives. And the bond with Dad's brothers' - Lou and Joe - was unique: joining us every Shabbat and often during the week for meals, you were there for them. They loved and respected you as a sister.
When times were good you shared your siblings joys, and when there was adversity, you stood by their side, sometimes to listen and love them, sometimes to offer guidance, sometimes to give whatever you could of your time, energy, and material assistance. I especially think of your tireless efforts for your sister Lottie, the countless visits to be with her in Atlanta, and when she passed on, the ways you reached out to her children.
You will be missed as an aunt and a great aunt. Growing up, I never felt like I lived in a nuclear family. Though we were separated geographically, all the aunts and uncles were significant adults in our lives, whom we saw at s'machot and on vacations. And as some of your siblings and siblings by marriage passed away, you became even more important to your nieces and nephews and great nieces and great nephews, sustaining the connection to their parents through you. Especially for the nieces and nephews in Minneapolis who treasured being with you on Shabbat and Yom Tov. Fortunately, as a result of what you and your siblings created, the bond has been forged, and we cousins have each other even though we don't have all of you with us.
You will be missed as a friend. You made life-long, deep friendships with your peers - strong women who shared your values and commitments. Beginning in Atlanta with your friend Rosalee Alterman, then your college roommate - Nell Perkarsky - your shadchanit and eventually your sister-in-law, with Fanny Brudnoy and Mary Lebedoff, and your next door neighbor and best friend in Minneapolis and in Jerusalem - Rose Joshua, and others, too many others to name. And you were a role model for countless younger women in the community whom you mentored and who followed in your footsteps, trying to live as you did.
You were a leader in the community, working tirelessly for the Jewish community in Minneapolis, in America, and in Israel - for Hadassah, for the Federation, for Knesseth Israel, and for many other organizations. You raised money, you gave talks, you recruited, you organized, focusing not on yourself, unconcerned with getting recognition, very concerned with making a contribution. In these roles you were tireless and efficient, a good administrator and sensitive to needs of others.
You will be missed as Bubbe - as grandmother and great grandmother, as matriarch to an ever-expanding family, with several new great-grand children soon to arrive and a wedding coming, besha'ah tovah, whom unfortunately you will not be able to see. You took care of them when they were little, in the small ways that are so important, reading to them, walking them, feeding them, playing with them. And in your later years when you moved to Israel, they loved to be with you and take care of you a little. Hardly a day passed without a spontaneous visit or call.
You will be missed as our mother. You created - with Dad - a loving home. Although you had nearly completed your doctorate in food chemistry at Columbia and could have excelled professionally, you chose to focus on creating a home for us, and being there day-to-day as we grew up, through the daily routines of life. In some respects, you over-indulged us - I was a very picky eater and you cooked to my tastes, providing endless supplies of chocolate chip cookies that were my main source of nourishment. But underneath that indulgence was another message that showed trust in our essence and in our ability to learn from your example about values and commitments that extended beyond ourselves. You were there to celebrate our successes, to encourage us when things didn't go well, to support each of us becoming ourselves, recognizing our individual and unique talents and interests, even when it took us in directions that were difficult to understand or support. You loved without clinging or controlling. You supported us in becoming ourselves, not demanding that we live to please you. And, as adults, you were there to offer a hand when we had difficulties. And, when Daniel became ill, you were by his side through it all, doing what you could to help him heal and to ease his pain.
In all these roles, you communicated through your actions and example, You didn't preach, you taught by how you lived your life.
You didn't care about material comforts or about accumulating possessions.
Public recognition wasn't important for you.
You gave and gave and gave with wisdom and a full heart. You gave to your family and to your community.
You continued the tradition of your parents in fulfilling the mitzvah of hachnasat orchim. Your parents home was open to all - to visitors, to refugees, even to Jewish convicts released from the Atlanta penitentiary. You didn't host inmates, but you and Dad always reached out, easing the way for newcomers to the Minneapolis community, many of whom became life long friends. And , in Israel, you always enjoyed surprise visits from friends and family. And, you did this with a loving heart, enjoying everyone you met and feeling good in being able to ease their way with a little nosh and a long conversation
You were a peacemaker. You didn't stop worrying when there were hurts and conflicts that caused estrangement in the family. So you reached out to build bridges and rebuild connection, you were stubbort and persistent: even if your efforts were not initially successful and the barriers seemed insurmountable, you kept trying
You loved your kitchen. How much we enjoyed all the goodies you made: cinammon rulls, chocolate chip cookies, popovers, pesach kugel, chicken soup and matza balls, chulent, infinite supplies of angel food cakes on pesach. You loved to bake and cook, and you loved seeing the fruits of your loving labor add to the joy of Shabbat and Yom Tov. While you had to cut back many activities in the recent past as you lost your energy, you and we continued to enjoy your baking. xYou were an Ayshet Chayil even though you didn't think of yourself that way. You had the courage throughout your life to make difficult decisions. You had the courage to leave Atlanta to go to the University of Georgia where you excelled - as phi beta kappa and a beauty queen. You had the courage to leave the South for graduate school in New York and the challenges of big city life. You had the courage to move to Minneapolis - a difficult move for a Southern girl who wasn't used to winter weather. I remember hearing how you couldn't believe it the first winter when Dad went out to work even though it was 30 degrees below zero. You had the courage to cope with the changes in your life when Dad passed away. You were true partners in life, and that loss was not one that could ever heal. But you persevered and had the courage to make a new life. You focused on others - being there for your family, giving even more to your community, even going to work at Rubenstein & Ziff.
And then at the age of 79, you had the courage to make another difficult decision, leaving the community where you had lived for most of your adult life, to be with your children and grand-children in Israel. It wasn't easy to move, but you made a new home for yourself at Ahad Ha'am 7. You found classes - parshat hashavua, aerobics, reading the Hebrew papers. You went to concerts and lectures. You even entered the world of cyber-space, trading your typewriter for a computer to translate the diaries, and even, though with great trepidation, learning to use email to keep in touch. And there were always visitors from America. You saw American relatives more after moving to Israel. And for the extended family, you became the sole representative of your generation to live in Israel, a matriarch of a large clan.
You wanted to stay connected with family in America, so despite your age, you traveled regularly back to the US on whirlwind tours that would have exhausted a much younger person - to Boston, NY, Atlanta, St. Louis, Chicago and Minneapolis. With the passing of years that trip got more and more difficult and the trips got shorter with less stops.I was glad for you to move to Israel - it provided a much more nourishing environment for you surrounded by family and friends than you could have had in Minneapolis at that time. But it was hard for me to have you so far away, not to have you nearer as Liz and I grew our family, not to have you there more to be with Max, Lev, and Dan. We did what we could - coming for Pesach every year, and you opened your home to us, despite the tumult of a small space. And you came, with Ruthie's help, to Max's Bar Mitzvah for what became your last visit, though it was very hard to make that trip. Just last week, Lev received a birthday card from you even while you lay in your bed in the hospital.It was not easy for you to grow old. You grieved the loss of many of those closest to you - not only Dad and Daniel, but many of your siblings and siblings by marriage, and many of your closest friends. You worried a lot. You worried when you didn't have the same energy, when you got the flu and it took longer to get over it.. You didn't like having aches and pains that didn't go away, that you couldn't fix. Dr. Ben helped a lot. He listened and he did what he could, but he couldn't make you younger. You worried about losing the ability to take care of yourself. You worried about losing your mental capacity. You didn't want to be a burden and need to be taken care of. But you were surrounded by people who loved you, people who delighted in being able to give you back when you had given them so much. Ruthie was there as your anchor. It was she who nudged and nagged for you to come to Israel, who was by your side through every stressful moment, who made sure your life was comfortable, who saw you through all the worries. You were so proud of the life she created with Steve, a home that embodies and carries on the values by which you lived, and you spent almost every Shabbat and Yom Tov with her, except if she was out of town and you went to Ellie or the Wilenskys or your friends the Rotenbergs.. And you were surrounded by your grand-children, their spouses and children - who loved you so much. They loved having your there for the birthdays and school celebrations, and felt privileged to be able to help out a little, to fix the computer, to clean the house, to keep you company.We weren't ready to let you go. We did not expect to celebrate your 89th birthday with you in the hospital. We tried to keep you with us a little longer, and for a while it seemed that - Ayshet Chayil that you were, that you might beat the odds and triumph over this last challenge, but it was not to be, despite everyone's efforts.After Dad passed away, I remember talking with you about dying. You told me how you were with your mother before she died. You were in the room with her and realized that she was going to breathe her last breath at any moment. You were frightened and overwhelmed and could not stay with her. You ran out and told your father. He went in to be with her in her last moments. You regretted that you were overwhelmed, and as a result, you decided to volunteer to become a member of the chevre kadisha in Minneapolis, to help in preparing those who have died for their last journey. You said it was hard, but it helped. And, when Dad died, you were able to stay with him. Well, after that, I decided I better take that lesson to heart, and when Dick Israel asked me if I would volunteer to help with a chevre kadisha that didn't have enough volunteers, I also learned to touch death. And it helped me too.Though I wish I had more time to be with you before you died, more time to talk, I'm glad I could be there with you for some of this time at the end, to hold your hand and stroke your face through two long nights, not knowing whether you would live or die, to sing zmirot and Kiddush to you in hopes you'd hear and open your eyes and see me once again, and to be there with Ruthie at the end, holding your hands as your strong heart finally gave its last beat.So we must say good by to your physical presence in our lives. As hard as it is to let you go, we find comfort knowing that you lived your life to it's last days, on your own, independent, with all your mental capacity, and that you did not have to suffer too much the pains of old age.And we can find comfort in knowing that you lived such a full and long life, that you gave so much that endures even though your life has ended. And we can find comfort in knowing you will rest here in Jerusalem, next to the love of your life, with Dad, knowing you can be with him again, reunited and with us in your spirit. We find comfort knowing you are close to Daniel, the son whom it pained you so to lose. We find comfort knowing you can be with your brothers and sisters and friends who've gone before you, and with your parents whom you so loved. You can be free from the worries, free from the pains that don't go away, free from the grief, and you can shep naches from our joys and successes, guide us through the difficult times. You are leaving us but we will have you with us nonetheless. And we will do our best to find the courage and wisdom to embody your spirit in how we live.Ayshet Chayil, Hindl Bat Harav Tuviah and Rebbetzin Sara Hene, may your memory be a blessing for us and for all of Israel. Thi nafshaych keshura beztror hachayim.
This is impossible news to accept. Helen Ziff, my aunt, was the dearest person in the world. There really are no adequate words for me to use to speak about her and to do her justice. She was always so loving to me, so caring.
When I was 14 my father decided that I needed to spend some time with Zeydeh Tuviah...so he asked Helen to fly me to Minneapolis for Pesah...which she immediately and unquestioningly and unhesitatingly agreed to do...my father could not afford the ticket. I then spent almost every Pesah with Zeydeh, either in Atlanta or Minneapolis until he died...all by virtue of gifts from Aunt Helen (that I never knew about until many years later). She was there for my father in ways too numerous to enumerate…always with devotion, with open heart, and with love.
Walking into Aunt Helen’s presence was breathtaking. Her beauty was legendary in my childhood world. She had such a unique smile...and that fabulous tremulous voice...when with her, I always felt as if I was the most important person in her life… and I am certain that she made all of us feel that way.
Uncle Sam Ziff was such a perfect match for her. When with the two of them I always felt uplifted and inspired.
My father loved Helen dearly. He spoke of her all the time when I was younger...sometimes daily. She had a real aura about her in my father's eyes, and I came to love and adore her long before I really knew her in any serious way. Over the past decades, since making her home in Jerusalem, I have had several evenings with her that will always remain with me.
On one occasion, I was being presented with a special Israel Prize given in honor of The Abraham Joshua Heschel School. I had flown in from New York to accept this great honor, and asked Aunt Helen to come to the Knesset and the dinner following as my guest. She came, and she beamed. She just beamed. And her pride in me was more important to me than the Israel Prize...for she meant and will always mean more to me than I can describe. She was and will always be one of the core personalities who stand before me as model and guide for the type of life worth living.
Her memory will always be a blessing to me, to Susie, and to our children,
Jonah, Daniel, and Nessa...
My mother-in-law, Mollie Kessler, asked to be remembered to all of you
with her heartfelt condolences.
May you, the immediate mourners, be comforted by the tradition she held so dear, by the city she made her home, and by the people she devoted her life to...
With all my love,
Peter
Aunt Helen, your mother and grandmother, was truly admired by all the extended family members. Even though she was my mother's younger sister, my mother held her in the highest esteem. My mother would often tell me stories about her and retold them in a manner which indicated her constant admiration and almost amazement of her good deeds. Many of the stories which Peter told were also shared by our mother to all our family members.However the stories which I was always told start much earlier. The first is how Harold Hirsch was so impressed with her speech at Girls High School that he had to meet her and eventually that led to the full scholarship at the University of Georgia. How your mother suffered with the living conditions at the University as the Kosher family who she boarded with did not make life so easy for her. My Mother would continue and say how she persevered and got her degree in chemistry. Of course we all know that perhaps one of her most famous chemical consultations was her help in the coca cola yeshiva.
My mother talked about all the suitors Aunt Helen had and how some of them actually cried at your mothers wedding to your beloved father Uncle Sam A"H, who was a very special person and a most loving and wonderful spouse. Next I was told about all the activities your mother did in Minneapolis whether it was the shul, the school or the organizations for the community and Israel. On my visits to Minnesota for family smachot I always enjoyed seeing the community and the Ziff Family leadership. Based on all these stories I wondered how your mother sometimes had the time and stamina to accomplish all that. However, I never heard her complain or kvetch, she just went out and did what had to be done. Her devotion to the family was well known. If we cousins all stay in touch to this day, it is because of that wonderful legacy which our grandparents and parents left us.Aunt Helen was always adaptable and did what she knew was right. Not many people could have attempted aliyah as she did late in life. Of course she continued with a most productive life in Israel. On both my recent visits to Israel this year, I was able to get updates on the historical work she was accomplishing on Zadie's dairies. She had definite opinions and was anxious to share them. Having just seen her at Rinat's wedding's, I find it hard to believe the news.Helen Ziff was a unique, special person endowed with many special talents and a love and devotion to her family and friends which is rarely seen. We hope that the family will be comforted with all the wonderful memories of her. On behalf of Sheri and all our children ----Hamakom Yenachem Etchem......
Love Stanley
