Esther

Bubbe with Elijah, she loved sitting with him
Bubbe and Seth, she adored him, as did he
Blowing kisses to the camera, she was so cute!

Playing dress up with the kids!



As many of you already know, on St. Patrick's Day, my Grandmother Esther (or Bubbe as we called her) passed away. I have written about her in the past, but words are hard to put to someone who is so loving. Growing up, we moved a lot. The constant thing in our life was their home. Good ole North 90th in Milwaukee, WI. Any vacation we had, we went and visited our grandparents. When we lived in South Dakota, it was a 15 hour drive. In Iowa, about a 6 hour drive. In Michigan, a 5 hour drive. Our favorite was when we lived in a town in Wisconsin, and then it was only a 3 hour drive. We were so elated to live close by for those few years. We drove in rain storms, droughts, and even snow storms all the while eagerly anticipating being with my Grand parents. My Grandma was the picture of love. She always had a huge smile on her face and would have her arms wide open to smother you in hugs, all the the while stroking your face and telling you how much she loved you. She would truthfully want to know your every thought and listened better than any therapist you have ever met (let's face it, we all need one at some point in our lives;)) She was a night owl, just like me. She rarely forced me to go to bed on time, as a matter of fact, she loved sitting up with me. We'd snack on pickles, Challah, popcorn, or whatever, it didn't matter as long as we were hunkered down for the night. We'd watch The Golden Girls, Empty Nest, or Cheers, while my Grandpa would walk into the room and bat his arms while saying "this is garbage!" Only to sit down and watch a few minutes later. Of course while watching TV, I'd pour out my heart and soul as she'd listen. She always took careful consideration on how to respond (obviously the woman was full of wisdom) and would try to get me to see how the other person might have felt to respond in such a way. Sometimes it was irritating, but yet she was so stinkin' wise that you couldn't disagree. She was always up for a get together, especially over food (she, ladies and gentleman, is where I became a foodie!). She'd savor each thing with such joy and of course would eat slower than a turtle. Anyone who knew her, knew any meal would take hours. I am telling you people, I am not exaggerating, hours! It must be where Isaiah gets it from. I used to find it irritating as a kid, as I just wanted to go out and play, but I never wanted to disappoint her, so I sat, a lot. What I wouldn't give for one more long meal. My Grandmother was Jewish, and kept Kosher. To this day I love, Lox and Bagels, Kishka, Potato Kugel, Matzah sandwiches, pickles and olives, sweet gefilte fish, oh how the list goes on. I would beg her for lox as soon as I walked in the door, and she would just beam. She loved taking to us "get a bite to eat" or mini golfing (or as we called it Putt Putt), she even rode with us in the go carts! I remember her taking me to see movies, oh how she sat through some of the dumbest movies, just for us. They didn't have a lot of money, but what they did have that was more precious, was their love and their time. As all of her family knows, she almost always had a phone attached to her face. Mainly talking to her sister Shirley. What they talked about, I have no idea? She'd stay up late in her kitchen yapping away. The kitchen would fill of the scent of Comet cleaner as she cleaned that sink with such precision a surgery could have taken place. We'd beg her to hurry up to come and sit with us as we loved playing games or figuring out what we'd do for the next day. So she'd be late, she was always late. It drove me and my Grandfather nuts. He'd ask me all the time as we sat in the car waiting for her "Why is she always late?!" I am the type of person who needs to be early or else I get anxious. I think it started when I was young because I was the new kid a lot. I hated walking into the room and having everyone stare at me, still to this day, I'd rather be one of the first ones there. Not Grandma, she was late to everything, even Grandpa's funeral. We found ourselves thinking of what Grandpa would have said. I loved her. Thank goodness the Lord made her so cute, because some how, she got away with it. Even though she was Jewish, I must say, she lived like Jesus taught us to live. She bore fruit, as a matter of fact, her tree would have been weighed down with fruit. When you look at the fruit's of the spirit, I can't find one thing she didn't have in abundance. You know that irritating Proverbs 31, you know? The one of the perfect woman none of us could live up to? Well, they read it at her funeral. I didn't hear that it was that particular one, but when they read it, I was thinking, how on earth did they describe her so well? Then they said Proverbs 31 and my jaw dropped. We buried her on Sunday in one of the worst storms I have ever stood in. The rain was huge, hard, and cold. She didn't like water, so it was hard for us. All of us huddled under this tent that was dumping water every where as we hovered over the elderly to keep them from getting sick. The whole thing was surreal. She wasn't there sitting beside me asking what the Cantor was saying, instead she was being buried. My Mom, who was her best friend, who lived and breathed for her was so upset. Because of my kids dying, I knew there was nothing I could say or do, but just be there. I can't bring her back. They couldn't finish the service there because the weather was so horrendous. We ended up going back to her Sister's Jewish living center to finish the service. The Cantor had gotten stuck in the mud over at the cemetery, so we had to wait. The thing I love about Judaism is you are allowed to grieve. You don't make small talk about your life, you talk about the deceased. So everyone gathered with stories and tears and really honored Grandma. So begins the process of sitting Shiva. You typically cover your mirrors so that you aren't concerned with your appearance and for 7 days you gather with friends and family, who take care of the mourners. I love that, they take care of you. You talk about your loved one who has just departed and so much more, to honor the life that G-d blessed you with. There is such deep respect and that is such a comfort. There is more to it than that, but that's another story. After we ate, the service began. Grandma would have been so pleased. We had our coffee or tea by our hands, just like she loved. I had forgotten that Purim had just started. It is one of the happiest days of the Jewish year. It celebrates Queen Esther, which of course was my Grandmother's name. I just tearfully smiled to think, she was buried on the happiest day of the year, a party, she loved a party. It was so fitting, as I saw G-d's fingerprints everywhere. I got to be able to read some memories, which when I said them out loud, I felt child like. I felt like that 8 year old sobbing for Grandma as we drove away. My whole body started to shake as I couldn't believe she was really gone. Growing up we moved so much, her and Grandpa had made me feel like I was extra special, pimples and all. She made everyone feel like a King or a Queen, so important. I have never met anyone like her and here she was all these years, my Grandma. She was my confidant while I was growing up. I am so glad she moved to MI the last years of her life, because I finally had her close by. She was there when Isaiah and Aria were born, with that gorgeous smile of hers. She went to their birthday parties with such glee. The last one was with Aria, when we had that tea party. What a gift of joy she was. I am a Christian, but I still believe that the Jewish people are the Chosen people. G-d honors his promises and he made a covenant with His people. She kept His laws and I believe she is in Heaven. He loves his dear sweet Esther Lee Rubin Werba. A woman who had been through so much. Her Grandparents and much of her family killed in the holocaust, lived through the segregation of Jews when no one would hire her father. She lost her daughter (my Aunt, who was in her early 40's) and her husband died 9 years and 1 day before she went. She cried when Aurora died and looked at her pictures over and over again. With Elijah, she came to hospital and held him as he gazed at her with sheer comfort. Even after he died, she mourned deeply with us and let me talk about him as much as I wanted. She watched all of his videos (hours and hours) of a little baby just sitting there, and she loved it. She even poured over each picture asking me each moment that had happened. She made them count, and that was worth more than gold to us. Amidst all the sorrow, she still went on and showed others compassion, love, and she did it with sheer joy. Anyone who has met her knows what a spirit she had. I thought she had longer to live. She didn't want to die, she wanted to live and that is what makes it so hard. We were honest with the kids and Isaiah says "I am sad, but she is happy in her new body." She was the best. I have always heard the question, who do you want to be like? Someone famous? Smart? Beautiful? I want to be just like my Grandmother. She did what Jesus asked us to do, she loved G-d with all of her heart, she loved her neighbor as herself, she loved life. It's selfish of me as I can't help but wonder what we'll do without her. She was an example to me all along. She cried with me while I grieved, she rejoiced with me when I was happy, she grew frustrated when I was upset, she was my Grandma and I am so blessed to have had her in my life. So we praise our Dear Father for giving us the gift of time as she now dances with my Grandfather in Heaven as my kids pull at her dress. We will miss her, because she was worth it.