Remembrance For Joe
November 29, 1948-June 22, 2025
Delivered on the date of Joe Feldman’s Funeral, July 1, 2025
Written By Jill Feldman and delivered by Hans Carter

My remarks are about Joe, but they are also about me. After 48 years together, its hard to know where he ended and I began.

I met Joe as a counselor at Camp Tawonga in the Sierras in 1977. I remember walking into the dining hall and seeing a new camp counselor. I saw him from the back, which looked pretty cute to me. I sauntered over to the water fountain so I could get a look at his face. Also cute. At the evening campfire Joe was struggling to help his campers with the folk dances and I came over, grabbed his hand, and taught everyone the steps. It was Kismet. On the way back from camp, Joe asked me to come home with him. We were in love.

After a four year long-distance romance I finished school and moved in with Joe in San Francisco. We married a year later. It may seem strange that we never discussed children when we got married. Not to us. We married for ourselves and our love for each other. The rest of our future would take care of itself.

Ten years went by. Joe founded a non-profit that provided educational advocacy services to children with disabilities (the Community Alliance for Special Education, or CASE) and I started my legal career. We worked long hours, bought our first home in San Francisco, and were happy. Then I thought about the future, that our table at Thanksgiving would be empty, and realized we should have children. So I came home from work one night and told Joe that I wanted to have a child. Joe looked at me and said “I better take a shower.” Josh was conceived that night. We named our first son “Joshua J Feldman” to honor Joe’s father Morris, who had only a middle initial, “J”. A couple of years later Josh threw a penny in a wishing well and wished for a baby brother or sister. Our second son was conceived that night. He was named Jacob, which is Joe’s middle name. So Josh and Jake both carry family names, becoming part of the fabric of our past and our future.

We were a team, supporting each other’s careers and passions. I knew that Joe’s desire to serve children with disabilities would mean that I would financially support the family. Joe knew that the long hours of my career would mean that he would be the primary caretaker of our boys and home. So that is what we did, for each other, for our family, and for the community.

To call Joe a devoted father would be an understatement. The sun rose and set on Josh and Jake. Joe was the bar mitzvah school carpool dad. He signed the boys up for little league and soccer. He coached Jake’s T- Ball league team, crooning encouragement to the boys in the outfield. He shared his love of the Beatles and Bob Dylan, wearing only T Shirts that honored his idols. The house was full of endless talk about sports, who was playing, trades and retirements, wins and losses. Whenever he was with his sons, he was in his element.

The brightest stars burn the fastest. Joe’s cancer diagnosis in 2020 was devastating. Yet he recovered from his first and second surgeries, and life went on. We went on endless walks, laughing and joking as we hiked redwood trails. Almost every evening was spent by the firepit where we bet on the stupidest things and fact checked each other on our cell phones. We were our own comedy show, without an audience. Magic was everywhere.

The end was hard. In his final weeks, Joe did not want to be alone, so Josh and Jake were his centurions, standing watch to calm his fears, to make him comfortable, to lift him both physically and emotionally. Our boys learned the depth of their love and the strength of their resilience as they stood watch through the long nights. Joe died in Jake’s arms as Josh was racing to the pharmacy to buy his needed drugs. Their devotion was endless.

Joe was a deep well of fun and laughter, an ocean of unconditional love. I could not have asked for more.

As for me, I am going out into the world to do the things that honor Joe and who we were. I am going to support my sons as they pursue their passions and careers. I will hike Joe’s favorite trails and conjure him up to walk with me, as we did so many times. I will rededicate myself to service to my LGBTQ theatre company, to mentoring law students, to working to help asylum seekers. I will talk to him at his gravesite overlooking his beloved Mount Tamalpais. I will live a happy life, different than before, but happy. That is what Joe would want.

I cannot name you all, but I want to thank all of our relatives and friends who supported us during these difficult times. Our sons who have been with us for the last several weeks, my sister who took my 6:00 a.m. calls from the hospital, our many friends and relatives who listened to my stories, brought us food, worried and prayed. Their love for Joe, and for me, connected all of us through time and space. We are blessed.

For those that are interested, please use the link to the CASE donation site (caseadvocacy.org/donate)