When my mom died in February I forgot that in her 2001 holiday letter she had expressed a desire to have her enthusiasm for kick boxing remembered in her obituary. Aaron tried to get it in there and I cut it. This makes me feel guilty, still. So here is what my mom said in that letter:
"Seventy-five is a wonderful age; I hope to be just that for many years to come. And I have asked those who may be in charge of my obituary, when that time comes, to record this: On the day before her 75th birthday in her kick boxing class she skinned her knuckles hitting the punching bag, (but only because she forgot to bring he bag mitts with her to class that day)....I love my senior kick boxing class and I figure my brother Russell would approve. I have early memories of him shadow boxing in front of our mirror by the kitchen sink and dreaming of a pugilistic career, which never happened. But still..."
So all those who loved my mom, picture her, well into her seventies, wailing on that red kick boxing dummy she had.
I miss you, Mom. I hope I am as powerful as you when I am seventy-five.
Mrs. Alpern was a wonderful, cheery lady who had a wonderful gift of hospitality. How I will miss those pickles from my college years!
Rebecca was my backyard girl friend who shared with me many moments of over the fence amity raising children and vegetables. Rebecca never ceased to amaze both in body, wrestling her rototiller, or in her sprightly and gay mind, with delightful limericks to suit the seasons. She was a standout and gym trainer's favorite in the kick boxing class for her contagious senior verve. And it was not just the fun Rebecca brought. She was an unapologetic citizen activist and a marvelous asset to her community and to her friends. Very sincere condolences to her lovely family.