Donald Cohen
I believe Helen worked for my parents at Stanley Jewelers in the Diplomat Mall. If this is the wrong Helen Ginsburg, please accept my apology:
I remember Helen as a bright, passionate woman who literally glowed straight from her soul when she spoke of her family. She was enormously proud of your accomplishments and I have no doubt that she was the loving mother you must all miss so very much. I loved chatting with Helen. She was one of the most intelligent women I have ever met. She worked hard and did so to the very best of my ability, even though my mom and dad (Herbert and Mary Frances Cohen, both deceased) and my sister Penny Maricle (deceased - January 31, 2015 of lung cancer) were difficult to work for, especially Penny.
I have thought of Helen often, especially after Penny's death just two months ago. I loved Penny but didn't like her. However, I took care of each and every member of my family and loved them all. I lived with my mom for 6 years and was the one who had to make all the decisions regarding the end of her life. It was a joyful experience for me, except the end (mom died in December 2008 at 91). I took care of Barbara when she was hit by a car and had to be put in a rehab facility for 100 days. I took care of Penny during the last six months of her life; her son flew in from Ireland after the diagnosis, but it was too late for him to help.
Helen was a good woman. I realize it's been some time since she passed away but I want to share my own experiences with grief over the loss of a wonderful woman in hopes that it will be some comfort to you.
My mom was adorable. She tolerated everything I did (and I did some very bizarre things), shook her head and said in her unique voice: "I wish you would grow up!
This statement was made after she had returned from a night out (I had been living with her and dad at La Mer) and noticed that someone had peed in the elevator:
"Why did you pee in the elevator?"
"What makes you think I did it, mom?"
"Who else would do it?
For the record, I no longer pee in elevators; they aren't that efficient anymore and I could get caught in the act.
The first couple of years after mom died, I wept frequently each and every day. Beautiful memories would come and the tears were replaced by laughter.
The next couple of years I devoted to writing a fictitious novel with the title Mary Frances Cohen and the the Mahjong Murders Caper. In the book, mom is an 85 year old detective who manages to discern that the deaths of the husbands of her three Mahj partners were actually mercy killings; each of their husbands had Alzheimers.
Artists and Artisans, a Madison Avenue literary agency wanted to promote the book (this was a few years ago) but one of the partners, who said she loved the book told me she specialized in chick lit mysteries and the story was wonderful but not something she had the ability to sell.
I put the project aside until recently when I met a wonderful fellow named Ami Trauber, who swam for Israel in the 1960 Olympics. Ami and I are members of the Ft. Lauderdale Masters Swim Team that works out at Hall of Fame Pool. I have been swimming for a year and am now nationally ranked in my age group 60-64. On January 31st I dedicated a swim to Penny's memory and managed to reach 3,335 yards in 60 minutes flat, placing me #79 nationwide in the 55 plus category and #77 in the 60 plus. Everyone on the team thinks I can approach 4,000 yards next year (I did the first swim using all open turns) which would put me in the top 3 or 4 nationwide. This swim is sponsored by a Chicago swimming club as well as Speedo.
Ami has become my mentor and life coach. He has demanded that I revise and finish the book within a year and will nag me incessantly until it is done.
To make this long story shorter.
I miss my mom every day, but mostly I think of the funny incidents, the touching relationship we had. I laugh more than cry.
