Sylvia Stephanie Garack

SYLVIA STEPHANIE GARACK

February 25, 1921 – June 1, 2013

Written and delivered by her son-in-law, Wayne Joseph on June 9, 2013

Sylvia Stephanie Garack was the fourth of four children born to Romanian immigrants Mary and Arthur Manoli on February 25 in the year 1921. Sylvia passed away at the age of 92 on Saturday June 1, 2013. Sylvia was a twin born a few minutes after her beloved brother George. The mid-wives and all the rest huddled in the kitchen of their Detroit home were mightily surprised by her arrival as they weren’t expecting twins. She was much smaller than her brother and she affectionately called herself “runt” during their childhood.

Sylvia attended Northern High School in Detroit and Business school following that. Among several jobs, Sylvia was a supervisor in the Ford Motor Administrative Purchasing Priority Office acting as a liaison between Ford and the War Office in Washington, D.C. during WWII.

A widow for almost 11 years, she was preceded in death by her dear husband Carl in 2002. They were married 60 years. Her cremated remains will be interred in a shared grave with Carl at the Fort Custer National Cemetery in Battle Creek early this summer.

Sylvia had two amazing daughters, Christine Garack and my loving wife Carolyn. She has two grandchildren Matthew and Stephanie, both of whom were given Garack as their middle names in honor of their maternal grandparents. The grandkids also created a nickname for Sylvia which stuck with her for her entire life.

They called her “Bud”.

Matt and his beautiful wife Fran added two great grandchildren to Bud’s progeny, Evan Garack and Zoe Maryn. Stephanie and her husband Sean brought another beautiful granddaughter into Bud’s legacy, Emily Kate who’s nearly a year old.

Sylvia had a difficult upbringing with the challenges of poverty and the Great Depression, but she always had a special relationship with her twin brother George whom, it was safe to say, she idolized as much as loved. Sadly, George would lose his life in a drowning accident overseas near the end of World War II in 1945. Sylvia never fully recovered from this tragedy and she would carry this suffering throughout her life. When she compared me or my son Matt to her brother George, it always made us feel honored. Her brother’s desire to be a musician in a Big Band prompted Sylvia’s life-long love of music. She kept a scrapbook for Carl during the War Years and we discovered these prophetic lines that she had hand-written on one of the pages.

I needed love – God sent me you

I needed strength and courage too

I lacked the rhyme-the “why” of living

God gave me you and in the giving,

I found new eyes with which to see

God gave me the world when he sent you to me

Her daughters remember a mother who would love to sing and dance around the house. As children, they cherished their 2 ½ day driving family vacations to Beacon by the Sea in Daytona Beach, Florida. They admired Bud’s impeccable sense of style and her unconditional love. She was always polite and never wanted to be a bother. She constantly reminded the two of them to take care of each other. Her grandchildren remember Bud as their Number One fan who was fascinated by even the most minute detail of their lives. They recall the constant devotion and dedication to family and the lesson to show gratitude and politeness. Sylvia never hesitated to give support to her grandchildren. Her desire was to share with them while she was alive. From Matt’s Golf Tour in Florida to his first home in Dearborn where Matt considered offering naming rights to Bud. Stephanie shared that Bud over-supported her in whatever she was selling from Girl Scout cookies to Bobbi Brown. Years later, Steph discovered a cache of unopened cosmetics in Bud’s vanity even though her grandmother had insisted she needed more. And Steph could never leave a visit with Bud empty-handed which is the origin of a one of Bud’s adages: “You like it? You want it? It yours!” Can of peaches?

The consensus opinion however was that Bud took worry to new heights…almost to a science…A storm within a hundred mile radius fostered constant phone calls until she was assured we were all safe and secure.

I was truly blessed to have two mothers in my life. Sylvia lovingly welcomed me into her family. We were the antithesis of the “in-law” relationship. We genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. I felt real love from this fantastic woman. So, in her honor, I have written this poem entitled:

AN UNEXPECTED TWIN

(for Sylvia)

The mid-wives were the first to notice.

Their task was incomplete.

The newborn boy’s sounds echoed -

The kitchen doubled as delivery room.

The immigrant woman atop the table of wood

delivered another surprise -

a girl

an unexpected twin…

In an under-lit room, February, 1921

the sibling cord was cut

but never severed…

Their childhood, awash in music and simple joys

outweighed the poverty and struggle...

Yet what hardship and toil could not deter

the World War II waters of New Guinea

would detach their earthly ribbon –

counterpart…apart…

She would carry the rest of her days

the specter of his misfortune -

and his never-known nieces

would inherit the spirit of a man they never met.

It was her love of another soldier

and then…her own daughters’ brilliance

and, finally…the miracle of grandchildren

that returned magic to her life

and ultimately, steadied her.

Her teachings would proclaim

the importance of making memories –

commemorate what you did…

The tragedy, she’d say, was to forget.

If you’ll allow me a personal aside, I have been accused of being OCD…well that’s more a diagnosis than an accusation, but in examining the potential cause for this neurosis, I cannot blame my upbringing. I simply lay the roots of this disorder firmly at the feet of our dearly departed Sylvia. She has shared so many of her OCD rituals with us across the years. Also known as “Budisms”, you will hopefully find them mostly entertaining. I, on the other hand, find them words to live by…(or else).

BUDISMS

• When you leave and then re-enter your house, you must sit down for 10 seconds before you can leave again.

• Always go out the door you came in.

• Always start the New Year with clean sheets.

• Never kiss in a doorway.

• Never complain about being bored.

• Always leave a little something on your plate.

• Always remember “Many true words are spoken in jest”.

• Any great recipe starts with sautéing an onion.

• Leftovers…you’ll always be happy to find them.

I’m not sure how Bud picked up these rituals/life lessons, but I, for one, am happy to incorporate these into my daily life…(or else).

In closing, Bud’s love of music, particularly the Great American Song Book was evident throughout her life…Frank Sinatra said that the songs of that generation were the greatest combination of music and poetry ever. Who am I to argue? This song, first written in 1942 was one of Bud’s favorites based on her singing this song to her daughters and her grandchildren. I believe these lyrics to be an apt farewell. They encompass Sylvia’s beliefs and her desires for each of us who love her and carry her spirit with us today:

I WISH YOU LOVE

Goodbye, no use leading with our chins

This is where our story ends

Never lovers ever friends -

Goodbye, let our hearts call it a day

But before you walk away

I sincerely want to say:

I wish you bluebirds in the spring

To give your heart a song to sing

And then a kiss but more than this

I wish you love

And in July, a lemonade

To cool you in some leafy glade

I wish you health and more than wealth

I wish you love

My breaking heart and I agree

That you and I could never be

So with my best, my very best

I set you free

I wish you shelter from the storm

A cozy fire to keep you warm

But most of all when snowflakes fall

I wish you love

My breaking heart and I agree

That you and I could never be

So with our best, our very best

we set you free

So now, dearest mother, you live out your teachings,

as you leave this earthly presence thru the same door you entered

on that winter day in 1921…

“womb to tomb”…

Hey, Little Bud…call us when you get home.

In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made in Sylvia's name to the American Red Cross 100 Mack Ave., Detroit, MI, 48201. 313-833-4440 http://www.redcross.org/index.js or Seedlings Braille Books for Children P.O. Box 51924, Livonia, MI 48151-5924 • (734) 427-8552 or (800) 777-8552 http://www.seedlings.org/