Three Things That Make A Difference

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Milton

“Are you Mrs. Bernstein’s daughter?”  The attending physician asked as I rush through the double doors of the emergency room.

I see my mother a few feet behind him, yet he directs me into a corridor, away from her.  

 What he says next comes to me in sound bytes.  

“He collapsed…”

“We’ve been waiting for you to get here…”

”Efforts to resuscitate have been unsuccessful….”

Resuscitate?

I knew this moment was coming, but that didn’t mean I was prepared for it.  My stepdad Milton had been sick for a number of months.   When he died on January 14, 2009, he had been part of my family for over twenty years.  The word “step” in front of father doesn’t seem like a fair label, when in fact, for decades, he treated my sister and me like his own daughters.

Milton was a good man, soft spoken and gentle.  At the time he arrived in my life, he was a stark contrast to my teen angst and propensity toward outrageousness.  Yet, he never judged me for my magenta hair, my next tattoo, the string of bad boyfriends, or dropping out of college (twice).  He accepted me for who I was at any given moment.

As years went by and I had children, Milton was a loving and involved grandfather. He completed our family. And he proved to me that family has nothing to do with having the same DNA.

Four years later, Milton’s legacy is still with me. I keep that legacy close when I think about the qualities I want to govern me as a parent, daughter, and friend.

Here are the three things Milton taught me that make a difference:

1)      Be more than kind.  Be helpful:  My parents had a cleaning lady from Russia, whom Milton sat with every day after she cleaned their house, to teach her English.  He did this because he knew that understanding English would afford her better opportunities.  A retired accountant, Milton volunteered at the public library every year to help the people in town file tax returns.

2)      Show up:  Milton showed up for my sister and me, for the great moments as well as the tough moments.  He walked me down the aisle when I got married, and he sat in the hospital with me every day when my son, a 31-week preemie, had a 46 day NICU stay after his birth.

3)      Forgive: Despite the family squabbles, both big and small, Milton always encouraged forgiveness.  He never took sides, he never tried to divide us, he never placed blame. He just wanted all of us to get along.    He said over and over again that life is too short to be angry.

And it is.

Earlier that day, my stepfather had been to a cardiologist in Manhattan, one of the best in the country.  She gave him a great prognosis and a treatment plan that would be put into effect.

But somewhere in my heart, I knew differently. I went as far as two days earlier to call my sister, and tell her that if she had anything she needed to say to Milton, to say it now.  He was fading.

When my parents got back from Milton’s doctor appointment, they stopped at my house.  My mother came into say hello to the kids, while Milton sat in the car, idling in my driveway.  My mom said he was too tired to come into the house.

From my window, I watched him in the car, and something pulled at me, and it pulled at me hard.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, as I ran outside.

I slipped into the seat next to him and held his hand.

“How are you doing, Milt?”

“I’m all right,” he said, with a half-smile.  He looked tired.

“I just want to say thank you,” I began.

“For what?”  He looked confused.

“You’ve been such a good dad.  And a good grandfather to the kids.  We love, you Milt. We’re lucky to have you in this family.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I deserve all of that,” he said with a shrug, modest, as always.

Four hours later, I gave an ER physician consent to pronounce him dead.

Say your “I love you’s” now, people, and says them often.

Namaste.

 

 

 Linking up with Shell for Pour Your Heart Out

 

Linking up with Alison and Galit for Memories Captured.

Comments

Three Things That Make A Difference — 52 Comments

  1. Wow Ilene, such wonderful advice inspired by beautiful memories. Thanks for sharing!

  2. oh Ilene. This is such a beautiful tribute to Milton. Thank you for sharing a piece of him with us and those wonderful lessons. Those do make the difference and he would be so proud of you. I’m so happy that you had a chance to sit with him and say thank you. We do need to do that more often. xoxo lots of hugs.

  6. I am grateful every day that I had that moment in the car with him – it was one of the largest “trust your gut” life lessons I’ve ever had – I knew I had to go out there and talk to him. And yes, he taught me so much and I am grateful to get the chance the share those things. xo

  9. After I read this I took a minute to absorb it and shed a few tears. Wouldn’t it be lovely if we were all a little more like Milton? What a wonderful world it would be.
    As a side note… I’ve been sneaking kisses from my kids all morning and telling them, “I love you.” I think they think I’ve gone mad! 🙂

  11. Amazing advice, friend. I’m so sorry you’ve had to endure a painful loss, but I love what your beautiful soul has learned (and shared) from it. I love that you made sure he knew how you felt – that moment gets taken from far too many people these days.

  14. I’m so glad you took the time to speak to him while you could. I knew when my grandfather was dying, and it would have haunted me if I hadn’t gotten to tell him I loved him one last time. I’m so sad that you couldn’t keep him for a few more years, and I can feel your grief still after four years have passed.

  15. Beautiful message. Thank you for sharing. It’s an amazing feeling to be supported and loved unconditionally. I’m sure you miss your ‘Milt’ like crazy but all his lessons are forever with you to learn from and pass on.

  17. Such a beautiful message – what a wonderful legacy he left. I am glad you had a chance to speak with him that day. Thank you for the reminder to say what is in our hearts every day.

  18. I am gulping down tears. What an amazing influence on your life Milton was. And thank God you went out to the car. I feel like the universe is always speaking to us. We just have to listen. So glad you had your ears and heart open that day.

  28. I’m so sorry for your loss, Ilene. What a wonderful man he was. Thank you for honoring us, sharing your memories of him with us.

  29. He sounds like he was an amazing man. And what a blessing that you were able to let him know how much he meant to you.

  32. This is so beautiful. I’m so glad you got to say what was in your heart while there was still time to do so, and that you were blessed to have such a strong and loving presence in your life.
    I’m so glad you shared this at Shell’s today.

  33. Once again, you’ve got me in tears. I grew up with a step-grandmother (my mother’s mom died when she was young and my grandfather remarried). But, like you, there was never a “step” involved. She was our grandmother. I remember her trying to explain to me, when I was little, that she was not my real grandmother. My response was , “if you’re not real, are you a robot? How are you not our real grandmother?”. She died just a few days after Callia was born. She was in the hospital and could barely speak from the tumor in her brain. Even still, I made my mom put her on the phone so I could tell her I had a little baby girl. I couldn’t understand a word she said, but I didn’t care. I just wanted her to share a little of our joy before she passed.

  42. Thank you for sharing your beautiful story. And the wonderful lessons you learned from your father (in all the real ways). I’m so glad you said the things you wanted to say in time.
    Stopping by from SITS.

  43. First of all, so sorry for you loss. Secondly, thank you for sharing this story. The lessons that you learned are very important, and those three things you mentioned mean a LOT to people…especially the showing up part. Stopping in from SITS.

  46. Oh girl, this is heart breaking-ly lovely. A stunning ode to loving out loud.
    {You rock at that, by the way.}
    I’m so sorry for your loss, and am honored that you shared this with Memories Captured.
    xo

  48. Sure, now you have me in tears. I’m imagining the world with more Milts and more yous in it and like what I see. A beautiful love letter to Milt and a great reminder to me. I’ll be sneaking in a few more “I love yous” today. xo
    BTW – I love “loving out loud” also and may have to steal that one!