My Eulogy for My Mother Ruth Chapman by Lili O'Connell

I wanted to take some time today to talk about the joy that surrounded my mom’s life. Even though today is sad and nothing can change that, her life was happy and bright and I want us all to remember that.

My mom had deep, meaningful friendships that meant so much to her. She was always making new friends because she had a true love of people and she was a kind, wonderful listener and confidante. She told me often that I had great taste in friends and we planned pool parties, girl’s nights, and movie dates with my friends, who then became her friends. There was always a new event or party on the horizon to look forward to. She loved her Tuesday dates with Denise and, even when she started to get sick, told me that those times laughing and enjoying Trummer’s Titanics were “her medicine”.  My mom never met her sister,  but Kerrie, you were her “sis”.  I would often hear her end a phone call with “love ya sis” and it made me smile.

Not too long ago my mom and I attended a charity function for our old neighbors and friends Todd and Raquel. It took place at their Baptist church and was for a wonderful cause: raising funds to help a family adopt a handicapped child from Colombia. My mom and I had an absolute ball. We ate, chatted, bid on auction items and were deeply moved by the spiritual strength of their community. When we left, my mom jokingly told me “well, if judaism doesn’t work out then let’s become Baptists”. It was a night with her that I will always remember.

It’s hard to find the right words to describe my mom’s commitment to and love of our family. When Evie was six months old my parents moved from CT to VA to help us care for her. They lived with us and my mom often joked that our kids required a lot of “staff”- it was a 4:2 ratio after all. But there was no job she loved more. She would tell me often “your kids are beautiful and smart. I would tell you if they weren’t and I would still love them if they were ugly and dumb but they’re not. They are gorgeous and brilliant”. She was the proudest Bubbie and she loved spending time with Evie and Caleb- taking them to swim class, camp, shul, and school. There wasn’t anything that she wouldn’t do for our family.

Judaism was intensely important to my mom. She had seen the horrors of the Holocaust through the lasting trauma of her parents and I recognized the difficulty of that experience for her. My grandparents both lost spouses and children in the war and those stories were a driving force for me to uphold and continue our faith. Together, we planned holidays and took part in Jewish life. My mom was so excited and proud that our kids were going to Gesher, a jJewish day school. She came with us to many functions held there and always  told me it was a warm, wonderful, place. My mom spoke Yiddish and would often come up with a word or phrase that fit the moment perfectly. Hannah, your text from yesterday said it all. My mom was truly a mensch.

My mom wasn’t just a mom to me, she was my best friend. Though she’s gone, I know her memory will live on through all of us who loved her. I hope you will all share your memories of her often and that you will help me tell Evie and Caleb about her as they get older. She was a bright light in this world and I know that somewhere her light is still shining as she looks down on us with love.

Eulogy for My Wife Ruth Chapman, August 24th, 2023

Beginnings

I met my wife, Ruth Greenfield, at a “rush” party thrown by Tau Epsilon Phi, a Jewish fraternity which was formed in the 1920s because the mainstream “Greek” societies of the era for the most part did not admit Jews. TEP, however, accepted goys as members and since I grew up in a Bronx neighborhood across the street from an Orthodox Jewish synagogue, and all my close friends were Jewish, I fit in pretty well. Ruth was a lovely girl with big beautiful green eyes, smart, and I was immediately smitten. To my amazement, she reciprocated my feelings and after that first meeting, we were never far apart for very long.

We married in 1980 and I decided that because I was now marrying a Jewish girl, it was time to go all the way and formally join Team Moses. My Jewish name is Akiba. I was brought up as Jehovah’s Witness and enough about that. (Though if you want to hear my pitch for a copy of The Watchtower and Awake! magazines, I can do that after the ceremony.)

Ruth’s parents were Holocaust survivors. Her father, Joseph Greenfield, was liberated from Dachau. He was interred in several other Nazi camps along the way to that destination and I once thought he’d done the Grand Tour of Hell. His wife and baby son and daughter were shot down by a squad of Einsatzgruppen in a field outside the Polish town of Gorlice.

Her mother, Lucy Greenfield, fled to Russia with her young son and husband just ahead of the Nazi horde. Trapped in Leningrad during the 900 Days, she gave birth to a second son who perished from starvation. Her husband was slain by a German sniper just days before the end of the war. Ruth once told me that after she passed way, she hoped to finally meet her two brothers and sister.

Life

Ruth was my love and best friend, and I sometimes think “friend” is the most important part of marriage. Ruth and I did everything together: take dancing lessons, go to the theater regularly, go to the Thalia, (a downtown “revival theater” whose center aisle was pitched up), travel (this October we had made plans to go to New Orleans) argue politics, and so on. I’m a writer and Ruth read through all my books after I’d completed the first draft. The advice she gave was always cut out half the text and she was always right. In the early 80s, we bought a Mitsubishi Tredia, an eight speed, and we taught teach other how to drive a stick without getting divorced. Ruth also had a talent for languages and when we went to French foreign films, I had to read the subtitles. She didn’t because she remembered her high school French. I’m still jealous.

Ruth also spoke Yiddish. This is the world’s funniest language, and from time to time she’d hit me with some Jewish curse such as “May you have hard butter and soft bread,” “Straight from the brain to the mouth,” and others. These sound hilarious in Yiddish and a few months ago she and I were talking about taking Yiddish lessons online. Yiddish is not a dying language and is used regularly in Israel by the Haredi. Some of whom who learned to be careful about what you say around her. In 2000 our family visited Israel and went to the Wailing Wall. While she and my daughter were changing into outfits considered more appropriate to Judaism’s most holy site, she overheard some Haredi women making comments about her and my daughter she thought unkind and told them to put a sock in it. In Yiddish. With her as my classroom buddy, I think my lessons would have gone well. I’m still considering going ahead with the project. When I meet her again, I’ll drop a few original Rick Yiddish jokes on her.

Oh, I’m forgetting one thing! We had a daughter, Lilith! Her name comes from Jewish folklore (not Cheers) and there are many legends and tales attached to this name. My favorite is the one that says Lilith is a spirit sent by God to punish little boys who are mean to little girls. We both regarded Lilith Ruby Chapman as our most notable achievement. Lili’s commitment to Judaism rekindled Ruth’s attachment to her faith and also encouraged me to examine the religion I’d converted to with greater interest and attachment.

As my daughter has noted, Ruth was a kind person. She loved people and they were always drawn to her. AND, she loved dogs. She spent many of her childhood years growing up in the NYC projects where dogs were not allowed. She continually nagged her parents about owning a dog, and cried whenever pet stores advertised puppies for sale.

When we moved to Connecticut in 1993, our daughter announced she wanted a puppy. Ruth leaped to her feet and announced “Yes! The child deserves a puppy. Let’s look now!”

And so we did and by the end of the day, Charlie the Miniature Schnauzer became a member of the Chapman family. As you have guessed, Charlie soon became Ruth’s dog, and was always depressed whenever she was out of the house for too long. When he reached the end of his years, she mourned him deeply. When she reaches the Rainbow Bridge, I know she will be greeted by a frantic schnauzer almost insane with happiness.

Conclusion

Ruth and I were married for 43 years. I was sure we’d make it to 50. I was looking forward to that party. As I speak to you, I am still in a state of shock. Her death came upon her years ahead of time and unexpectedly. I will confess that I’m very, very, very annoyed at God at the moment, but I realize I did not always fully appreciate what I had. I have no reason to complain. But I feel very grateful for the 43 years I did have and recommend to you to never forget that the time you are given to enjoy the company of your husband or wife is limited. Always strive to understand them, love them, and be kind to them.