This week has been unusual; strangely, nothing occurred out of the ordinary, but something kept pulling at me. It began with enthusiasm, and like an inflated balloon, the air quickly escaped, leaving me unable to blog despite several attempts. There was something that I needed to know, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Two days ago, I googled some names of people I interacted with for seven years. When we spend time with people in a family setting, even when we are not of their clan, we blend in over time, especially if they embrace us with fondness and generosity. My position as a personal assistant/nurse of the family’s matriarch brought me into their space. To my shock, I discovered an integral part of the family, a senior male, had died. And what made it so painful was he died two years ago, and it was on that Christmas I didn’t receive a gift which had been ongoing since my client’s death, their mother and grandmother. I believed at the time that nothing lasts forever, and they decided it was time to stop gifting me. I was devastated to learn of his passing yesterday. I never thought to reach out to the family before because these people and I operate in different circles and, at times, a different world, and we didn’t stay in touch; our only exchanges were around the holiday. However, when I was among them, I never was made to feel out of place; instead, they made a conscious effort to make me feel included. It was a great shock that this great man died so young. It was a relief to speak with a family member who filled me in yesterday. What a loss?! The world has suffered a great loss!
It was an honor to know Mr. Nussdorf. He had a heart for those easily overlooked and went out of his way to help whenever asked. His mother, Esther, who I called my Jewish mother, has been gone for several years, but she remains with me in spirit. Now, with her son having joined her, I cannot begin to imagine the loss the family is experiencing. How do you find the right words to comfort those grieving? Saying you’re sorry seems so cliché, but what else can one say? The loss goes beyond the immediate family, but the family suffers the most pain from such losses. I’m sorry, so sorry, is the best I can do! May God give you all strength!