LIBBIE LEDERSTEIN

Hello all! 

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One of the many gifts my mother gave to me was honest, direct and clear instructions about how she wanted to be cared for and what she wanted when she died. And the greatest gift would be that she did put all that in writing. I've gone back to read her words many times over the recent years to remind myself of what she wanted.

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I don't think it will surprise you that she was a no nonsense, practical, science-based woman.  I think she was that way from birth, but perhaps the unspeakable loss of her young husband and then her son pushed her farther into not believing that there's some greater plan or that G-d has a reason when horrible things happen.

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So my mom will be cremated and over time, we will sprinkle her spirit in the places she loved. There won't be a physical service but a series of tiny, private moments (I hope for you too) when we will honor her. I hope this gathering place acts as inspiration for you to remember her. I'd love you to share and help me make it even more vibrant. 

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My mother was complicated. She had this super tough, intense exterior. She was seen as strong, powerful and perhaps to those who didn't know her, even as cold or difficult or self-absorbed. She talked a lot and didn't always appear to listen.

 

But she was always listening. And she was always caring deeply and she was always—really—just an insecure, mooshy, empathetic girl who was dealt more loss than most could handle and her way of surviving was to draw on her incredible strength to power on and to shut out glimmers of weakness and emotion. 

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On the 20th anniversary of my dad's shocking death at 39 (1973) from a heart attack, my mom wrote a note to her children. In it she said, "I tried very hard not to let you see the fear and insecurity I felt... I tried to do my crying in private and I know now that it was a mistake. Sharing sorrow is as important as sharing joy." 

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She added a handwritten note to me at the bottom of the group letter. It said, "Even though I know it is a burden and responsibility, I am hoping you will be the magnet that draws everyone together."

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It's not a burden, Mom. I got this. And I see you inside all those survival tactics. And whatever mistakes you thought you made, I don't see them. Life is messy. Parenting is even messier—a series of doing the best we can and making it up as we go. Well, your best served me well! I could not be happier, more blessed and more proud of the results of Mark's and my own messy parenting. :) I am strong no matter what life throws my way and you gave that to me. 

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As I've been whispering to you for months, "You did a great job. We are all good. We've got this. Thank you for every single thing you did for us. Go see the great love of your life, my dad, and my brother, Mitch, and everyone else waiting to have you again. You did it, Mom. I promise to continue making you proud. You did a great job. We are all good."

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Melinda (your girl, Mindy)