Oy Vey It's A Eulogy

In honor of my Grandpa J.

Yesterday was my Grandpa’s funeral.

Just a few weeks ago he was a spry 89-year-old man who had a full life and valued his independence. He was a retired tax accountant who served in volunteer leadership positions for Jewish War Veterans and the local Optimist Club, held a busy social calendar, loved tending to his garden, and enjoyed time at home with my mom and 2 dogs.

Then, he got COVID.

After a horrible week in the hospital, he made the choice to come home on hospice. Within a week of being home, where we cared for him 24 hours a day, he passed away. He survived Polio as a child with no long-term health effects, but at this stage of life, he could not survive COVID-19.

We are devastated.

It’s hard to accept that the man we knew a few weeks ago could be taken from us so quickly and in such a harsh way. He was the patriarch of our family who leaves an incredible legacy, we will miss him dearly.

I want to share the eulogy I gave yesterday to give you a peek into this legacy and the bond I shared with him.

Please note that I wrote it as a speech in the midst of an emotionally and physically exhausting couple of days so there may be typos or pieces that likely sounded better when said out loud rather than written. Regardless, I hope it allows you to get to know him, even briefly, because he was a wonderful person to know and a big part of my life.

His memory is and will be a blessing.

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Grandpa J

Hi I'm Kayla, Julian's oldest grandchild. All of the wonderful things he told you about me are true, you can disregard the rest. 

I am so grateful to have been so close with my Grandpa J. Well, as close as you can be when you don't live in the same city with a man who refused to speak on the phone for more than 30 seconds at a time and mainly communicated through forwarded chain emails, butt dials, and newspaper clippings. 

When people ask me about Grandpa J I'll usually tell them how generous and kind he was, that he made bald jokes which definitely got funnier each time he said them, and then mumble something about him being a Republican. I'd also likely brag that I knew with 99.9% certainty what he'd had for breakfast that day, even if I was living across the country and hadn't seen him in months. 

Reflecting on the past 28 years, I have to tell you that it's truly amazing how well you can know someone through food. Food is my passion and my love of it goes deep. It's my creative outlet, my academic background, and my profession.

I have come to know, explore, and understand the world through food. I also came to understand my Grandpa J through food. 

I know that three meals and snacks were a required part of his daily routine and if you threw off that routine in any way he was not pleased.

I know that my Grandpa rotated through a selection of sugary cereals for breakfast on weekdays that he'd eat while reading the paper. He usually had some banana with his cereal, but he always sliced off the ends of the banana because when he was little his mom told him there were spiders in there. This is a habit I actually shared with him without realizing it or having heard the story about my great grandma until I lived with him in 2020.

I know that dinners at home with my Grandma and Grandpa often meant watching Jeopardy while we ate and Wheel of Fortune while we cleaned up on the little TV at the corner of the kitchen table. Grandpa's dinners would always be drenched in some type of sauce, the man thought applesauce was a delicacy to be paired with every food imaginable. Along with his meal he probably enjoyed a glass of pinot grigio, plum wine, or a margarita from the gigantic Costco bottle he always had. And once dinner was done Grandpa J absolutely had to find a toothpick.

I know that on weekends my Grandpa used to make my Grandma an "omelette" which was one of the very few things he knew how to cook. Although to be honest, it was less of an omelette and more of scrambled eggs. Weekend breakfasts were also for, you guessed it, corned beef hash, which he gladly enjoyed out of a can.

I know so many of his stories and our family history thanks to meals we shared at the sticky booths in the various delis and diners around the valley where he was a regular.

I know that he was allergic to shiitake mushrooms.

I know that he hated broccoli but one time after they went to a party my Grandma made sure to call and let me know he ate a whole plate of broccoli casserole without realizing it and she thought it was absolutely hilarious.

I know that whenever I came to visit there would be a container of sliced fruit from Pavillions waiting for me in the fridge. Once I got older I realized that fruit did not magically appear in every grandparent's fridge and he had gone out of his way to make sure I had my favorite snack. 

I know that these last few years when my mom would come home late from work my Grandpa would always have something waiting for her for dinner. I also know that he would always offer my mom a bite of a tuna sandwich or his chicken, even though the last time she ate either of those she was under the age of 5. I also know that while that fact may of slipped his mind, my Grandpa did remember other foods my mom liked because he would always pick up an apple fritter for her if he stopped at a donut shop.

I know that a few months ago when his doctors advised him to eat a low sodium diet I was excited to finally share with him some of the knowledge I learned in graduate school. I carefully explained what low sodium meant, where on the nutrition facts panel to look for the sodium amount, and how he could substitute different versions of his favorite foods to adhere to the diet. Two days later he proudly told me that he remembered to order sugar-free syrup for his pancakes at iHop that morning. And it goes without saying that his trips to Carl's Jr were an obvious exception to all dietary or nutrition advice. 

I know that you could always count on my Grandpa to pull a green roll of breath savers mints out of his briefcase, pockets, or kitchen drawer. 

I know you could always impress him by making him spaghetti and meatballs or baked ziti or really any other saucey pasta. 

I know he was one of the only people in the world who still regularly bought and ate ambrosia. 

I know that after my Grandma went into assisted living, my Grandpa used her favorite Tinkerbell coffee cup every single morning to drink his coffee, which he only took with Sweet N’ Low. And once he made his cup of coffee he would unplug the entire Keurig machine, wash the Tinkerbell cup and then place it back on the machine for the next morning.

I know that every night at 10pm he would pause the TV, get up from his recliner, and grab himself some ice cream from the freezer. I know that these last few weeks, when eating was hard and the hospital food was shitty, we could cheer him up with a root beer float, a sip of milkshake, or a few bites of pistachio ice cream. 

Everybody knows that Grandpa J was a man of routine and that all of these food habits were no exception. They made him happy and it made us happy to know all his quirks and preferences. It was easy to get to know him through these routines and I'm so glad that I came to understand that his many gestures centered around food were acts of love and care.

And I know that every time I reach for some late night ice cream, I'll be thinking of him.

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In honor of Grandpa J and his endless generosity, do something good for someone else today.

And please remember how important it is to continue COVID precautions like masking in public spaces and getting your vaccines and boosters. These actions could truly save a life.

Ginny and Grandpa J