Shirley Shapiro

Shirley Shapiro, Age 93, of Pembroke Pines, Fla, gently passed away at home on Saturday, October 3, 2020 after courageously fighting cancer for a fifth time. She was born on August 26, 1927 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Shirley was a High School graduate who had many talents at an early age that continued on into adulthood. In September, 1946, she married Woody Goldberg (predeceased). They lived in Philadelphia until 1953 when they moved to Miami, Florida.

Shirley Shapiro was the beloved mother of Mark Goldberg (Arlene), Margo Pulver (Jeff); Grandmother of Lara, Amy (Mike), grandchildren, Rachel, Leah, David, Jason (predeceased), Caleb and Mia. She is also survived by Abbe and Jon Shapiro. She was loved by many nieces and nephews, countless friends and three devoted caregivers, Madge, Sonia and Barbara.

She was a member of Temple Zion in West Miami, Fla where she produced plays, was a member of the Temple Zion Sisterhood. She was a caterer for them and her foods were enjoyed for years by family and friends. She formed Shirley’s Personal Touch where she hand-painted names and designs on umbrellas, scarves and many other items. Shirley was an artist, a painter, a pre-school teacher, whose students lovingly called her Miss Shirley, specifically, the children of Elaine and Chuck (predeceased). Shirley and Elaine became sisters and the family, Karen, Kim, David, Robert & Lynne became Shirley’s aunt throughout the remainder of Shirley’s lifetime. She was a published author, having written short stories, novels and she was a columnist for the local community newspaper, The COOPPA Guardian. Monthly, along with her photo was a short story from Shirley’s World…Revisited. Later in life, Shirley became a Rebbitzen when she married Rabbi Norman Shapiro (predeceased). They were married for over 17 years. She was an avid Miami Dolphins football fan and watched every game with devotion.

Her home was always the welcome place where family and friends would gather for food, games, Jewish heritage meetings (led by her friend, Rabbi Fink (predeceased).

Shirley will always be remembered for her loving kindness, of always thinking of others before herself; of visiting the sick, of her strong Jewish reverence, her friendship, her artistic and cooking and baking talents, her favorite purple color and her love of butterflies.

Contributions can be made to the charity of your choice. Or a request can be made for a tree planted in Israel in Shirley’s name. Or to the L’Chaim Jewish Hospice Division of Catholic Hospice in Florida.

Due to the pandemic, shiva will be private at the homes of Mark Goldberg and Margo Pulver.

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THE BUTTERFLY

By Shirley Shapiro

I saw a golden butterfly when I was very small.

I watched it pause, then flutter and land upon my wall.

"What do you see along your flight?" I asked the lovely creature

"Do you fly both day and night? Is the Universe your teacher?

The butterfly flapped its wings and gave a great big sigh.

"In answer to your questions, child, I really must reply.

I see a world of many things, some happy and some sad.

I see much joy among the pain, the good among the bad.

Once I was a caterpillar, crawling on the ground.

Suddenly, I sprouted wings and new life soon I found."

The butterfly stopped talking and prepared to fly away.

"No, don't go," I pleaded. "Please, butterfly, please stay.

Do you know some special secrets of how my life will be?

Do you have some magic powers? Tell me what you see."

The butterfly grew larger and spread its wings out wide.

The earth beneath me rumbled and shook from side to side.

"My dear," he said, "expect to find bumps along the way.

When things are overwhelming, just take them day by day.

If troubles overtake you, don't let them get you down.

Face each pressing problem with a smile and not a frown."

Then he turned and looked at me and waved a last "goodbye."

He soared up high into the clouds, way high up in the sky.

Oh, pretty golden butterfly I met while in my youth,

Your words were so prophetic. You were speaking only truth.

Some days have been quite happy, others filled with tears.

Mixed in with the sadness, there have been happy years.

I think of you, my butterfly, you'll always be my friend.

I'll remember your wise teachings right up to the end.

From a lowly caterpillar, you grew and grew and grew.

If you could sprout-bright wings to fly, I can do it, too.

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From Mark Goldberg, son

Our mom.

As a little girl in Philadelphia, things were never easy for Shirley Gellar. She was passed around from aunt to grandmother, whoever would accept a little waif, whose mother was dead and whose father was never home.

But she knew how to draw and color, and paint. And she knew how to write. These were the things that kept the child occupied when everything else was against her.

She grew into a lovely young woman. And while she grew, she held tight to her caring, compassion and love for others. It wasn’t what she had been taught, as she matured, but rather the desire to give to others what she had never had.

She met and married Woody Goldberg, while she was still in her teens. Just as in her youth, she and Woody were passed from one relative to another, until they could afford their own home. It was small, but still large enough for the two of them the first year, when son Mark arrived followed by daughter Margo three years later. The unwanted visitor was the cancer that arrived when she was twenty-three years old. The doctors gave her six months to live. She beat their prognosis by seventy years.

Her artistic skills helped with the family’s bills. She used her artist’s oils to paint life into black-and-white photo portraits. For a local photographer. Two large oils she had done, one for each child, hung in her house for fifty years.

They moved to Miami a few years later, because relatives had told them over and over, that the city was beautiful, the people friendly, and it never rained, so she could plan a picnic two weeks in advance.

Woody was a hairdresser, rolling pin curls for blue-haired ladies in a department store beauty salon. She took her personality and love of others on the road; going door-to-door as a World Book encyclopedia salesperson.

They joined Temple Zion and she immediately knew what was missing: a musical performed by members of the congregation. They also painted the sets and designed the costumes. They left her a few smaller jobs; like writing the play, rewriting the music, casting, and directing. Several plays were performed over the years, each quite successful.

She was asked if she would like to join the Temple pre-school. It was a job she cherished and kept until retirement. And she loved her name; Miss Shirley.

After forty-one years of marriage, Woody passed away. She had loved him and decided she would never remarry.

Then she met Rabbi Shapiro. She changed her teacher’s outfits for the garb of a Rebbetzin, and, for the rest of her life, she was proud to be the wife of a rabbi. She once told me, “Your father gave me the laughter; the Rabbi gave me the knowledge.” School teaching was in the past, replaced by Temple Activities and visits with the sick, accompanied by her friend Rabbi Fink.

She was married to Rabbi Shapiro for seventeen years. She performed the job of Rebbetzin even longer.

She had always loved the art of writing. She decided to take a creative writing class. Taught by her son, Mark. She only needed one term to begin writing short pieces and then full novels. They were published and they sold. One, The Convent, won the best novel award presented by South Florida Writers.

She also wrote short stories for her community newspaper, The Century Village Cooppa. With her picture and name in the byline, she was graciously greeted by the entire village.

Shirley Shapiro quietly passed away this week. The coronavirus-19 physically kept us away from the service. But she will always be in the hearts and minds of Mark and Margo, Arlene and Jeff, Mike and Amy, great grandson Jason (predeceased), grandchildren David, Lara, and Amy and great grandchildren Caleb, Mia, Rachel and Leah.

One of my favorite memories was of this trim, tiny woman carrying that big, heavy World Book box, looking for a sale and always with a smile.

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From Margo Pulver, daughter

A piece of my heart broke when my beloved mother, Shirley, passed away a few days ago on Saturday, October 3, 2020.

She graced the world with her smile and loving compassion for those around her.

At the young age of 4, she lost her mother to breast cancer and spent her formative years in Philadelphia, being uprooted from relative to relative. Still through it all, she was able to have an outlook on life that was positive.

Mom became a pinnacle of grace and poise and she could do anything…cook, bake, sew, paint, do beading, teach, knit, console, be the perfect hostess. You name it and she could do it.

As a child, growing up in Miami, I would watch Mom as she made Mother/Daughter clothes for us and my dance recital costumes. I used to watch in awe as she rolled knish dough and wondered how she was able to stretch it so ultra thin across the glass top table without tearing the pastry. Then she filled the dough with delicious potato and onion filling.

On Friday nights for Shabbos (as we called it back in the 50’s and 60’s), we would stand together and recite the blessing over the candles. From the kitchen, came the delicious aroma of her simmering matzoh ball soup, a roasting chicken and often kasha and bowties. We couldn’t wait to taste her brownies or her famous chocolate chip chiffon cake which always rose far above the top of the cake pan.

I learned how to set my tables for meals and parties by watching Mom. Mom’s presentation of food was something to behold. Everything was always so beautifully placed. Even something as casual as meat loaf, was often a fun surprise when you first cut through the mashed potato topping and inside the meatloaf, you would find hard boiled egg slices. As a caterer for Temple Zion, she could cook and bake for large groups of people but we got to sample the delectables first. Mom even made all the food for the 250 guests at Jeff’s and my wedding.

Mom was always doodling on scraps of note paper…usually facial profiles; always in such detail. She painted, too and created Shirley’s Personal Touch where she hand-painted names, initials and designs on umbrellas, scarves, purses and other household items. Her favorite flower to paint was a sunflower and in their Kendall home in Miami, she painted beautiful sunflowers all over the powder room walls.

While our Dad, Woody Goldberg, was out at work, Mom kept the household running and at the same time, had fun. She loved to play games. As a child, I used to watch as she and her friends sat in the living room playing Mah Jongg and Double Solitaire. The way the fingers flashed across the table was amazing. I was so thrilled when I was given my own Junior Mah Jongg set. Growing up, the joy of laughter could be heard usually every week since it was The Party House where friends gathered to sing and tell jokes. No one could ever beat Mom at Scrabble, either, as hard as everyone tried.

That laughter and fun carried into Jeff’s and my married life with our friends. These days, I play Mah Jongg with my own friends. At our own get togethers, even for outdoor BBQ’s, our friends know there will be some type of word game. Our friends met my Mom on her visits to us where we live up north and we always had a Games Night in her honor. She loved our friends and the feeling was mutual. Mom always said how special they were. Once a month, our house would be filled with the laughter of guessing games.

In our younger years, Mom read to us, listened to our stereo music or tap shoes, taught us how to drive, separated us when we argued, kissed away tears…all these things and more…because she loved us unconditionally; the way a mother does. This came naturally even though she did not have her own mother as a role model since her mother passed away of breast cancer when our Mom was only 4 years old. Yet, she muddled through and came out as the endearing, caring, selfless Shirley, loved by so many.

Her caring ways extended beyond our small family. She was a preschool teacher where everyone loved Miss Shirley. In particular, the 4 Mutter school children, Karen, Kim, Robert and David, became family as did their parents, Elaine and Chuck. Elaine and Mom became sisters throughout the rest of Mom’s lifetime and the Mutter children became nieces and nephews.

At Temple Zion, Mom was in the Sisterhood, doing goodwill. Shirley was also a published author and had a monthly column in the community newspaper where readers looked forward to reading one of her Shirley’s World…Revisited short stories. She was a cancer support group leader, a friend to those who lost spouses or family members, she visited the sick and boy, was she a loyal Miami Dolphins football fan.

After Mom’s long marriage to Woody, our beloved Dad passed away. It was a crushing blow to all of us and Mom once again was met with deep sadness. Once again in time, she came through. She then met and married Rabbi Shapiro and became a Rebbitzen where her strong faith was once again exhibited in many ways. She made new friends and became loved by the community in Century Village in Pembroke Pines.

Mom was just 23 years old when her first strike of cancer reared its ugly head. I was only 9 months old at the time. She fought through it and survived. Many years later, cancer appeared in her body, elsewhere. Then years later, a 3rd time and then a 4th time. Each time, Mom fought and survived even into her late years. This 5th time was the worst. Still, she endured tests and injections and pills and treatments; everything the doctors suggested. Madge, Mom’s main caregiver, had known Mom for many years and had taken care of her during previous cancer illnesses. They had a special bond unlike any caregiver I had never known. They truly loved each other and it gave peace of mind to the family, knowing our Mom was in such good, competent hands. She has been with Mom for the past 4 years and she brought in Sonia and Barbara, the other two caregivers for Mom. All 3 of them always told me that they loved Our Mom and that they were all like family.

Mom was a brave fighter and as always, would say to Jeff and me, “Be well and kiss each other. Take good care of each other. I love you.”

Then the ugly disease took over control. Exactly 89 years past 1931, to the exact same date of October 3rd, when her own mother passed away, so, too, did her mother’s youngest child, Shirley. It was as if Mom knew her family would be all right and she quietly and peacefully passed away…on the Sabbath just as Woody did and just as Rabbi Shapiro did. I have been told that when a Jewish person passes away on the Sabbath, that it is a true blessing. A blessing is what Mom was.

The current worldly pandemic has physically kept us apart and from this service but Mom will remain in the hearts of Mark and Margo and Arlene and Jeff and the entire family of grandchildren, great grandchildren, nieces, nephews, cousins and friends and everyone whose life Mom has ever so tenderly touched.

The lullaby my mother used to sing to me as a young child, still lingers in my head. I can still hear her soft voice singing it to me. In fact, she sang it to me just last year as she held me in her arms while we were sitting together at her home while she was going through another rough medical time. Last week when the awful cancer was strongest in her, I sang it to her over the phone and we both cried together and said how much we loved each other.

My life was made richer because of the unending love of my Mom. She instilled her Jewish faith in me. She was the source of courage and inspiration; always lending her ear to listen or offer a shoulder to lean on. She was a friend who was there for you.

Just like the butterflies that Mom always loved, butterflies will be released at the end of her service to soar up into the sky in her memory, spreading beauty and a feeling of sheer loveliness…just like Our Mom.

A sweet memory that I have is from two weeks ago. Mom and I were talking on the phone as I stood by the butterfly bush in our yard. I told her that I saw pretty butterflies go by. She said, “I’m sending you butterflies.”

Thank you, Mom…for everything.