I loved grandma so much. She was brave, cheerful and kind, and loved life. She loved yoga and cooking—she was an excellent cook—from making zucchini pies and matzo ball soup, to baking my birthday cake every year. Grandma loved reading and learning. She loved stories and conversation. She loved being a mom, a grandma, a great grandma.

When I was little, my grandparents would take care of me after school. My grandma would make sure I washed my hands and I had a healthy snack. That I did my homework. She asked me how my day was, who I spent time with, what I learned. She wanted to know everything I was involved in because she deeply cared about how I was growing up.  My grandparents would also drive me to my activities. These drives were sometimes full of chatter and sometimes we would just be with each other in silence until I’d fall asleep. Through sleepy eyes, I could see my grandma constantly turning and looking back at me, making sure I was okay and waiting until I would wake up. Because when I would wake up, she would offer me fruit, a red plum, or candies. She wanted to give me something sweet, a little treasure. 

Growing up, we spent a lot of time in grandma’s apartment. I remember her white sewing machine on her desk with drawers full of fabric; her tomato pincushion. She would fix clothes when I’d tear them or needed them hemmed. She was always so meticulous about that.  She was always so put together. Her clothes were beautiful. It’s been quite a few years since I’ve seen that sewing machine, but grandma never stopped asking me about my clothes. She would come up to me and feel my jacket, holding fabric in her hands and ask me where I bought it and if it were new.

Grandma, I am your only granddaughter. I am your favorite granddaughter—you told me that. I love you, I miss you. You are forever in my heart, you will keep me brave and in gratitude for all of the goodness in the world. 

I want to add a note regarding Luly. She was a friend of my mom, I believe they met when they worked in a factory as new immigrants in NY. Later we became friends with both her an Freddy, her husband. As an aside, Freddy took my High School graduation pictures and we were so unfamiliar with the graduation ceremony and customs that I wore my gown backwards. All our family appreciated Luly - her kindness, calm and gentleness. However, what I want to say here is not only about Luly, but what she represented on a larger scale.
Luly was part of that generation that endured both Nazis and communists. She was in camps and she lived through the scarcity, economic hardships and fear associated with the Communist regime. And, she survived! Not only that but she made a new life in a new, unfamiliar country creating a family with children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. Truly part of the greatest generation!

Who would have thought a little girl from Haiti and a little girl from Romania would be lifelong friends.  Who would have thought that the families would be close and each family would change forever the lives of these two little girls.  Mrs. Kaufman always to me, was the dearest most incredible person who shared her life with me as a little girl.  She asked Irene why I continued to call her Mrs. Kaufman instead of Luly even as an adult- it is because I am still that 13 year old who was touched by the kindness of love of this incredible person.  Her humanity, thoughtfulness and caring for her dear Irene was boundless and I am so grateful that she included me in her world.  

OBITUARIO

Luly Kaufmann

28 octubre, 1930 – 27 agosto, 2023

Schwartz Brothers-Jeffer Memorial Chapels

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