Michael L. Shulman

Shulman, Michael L, 70, of Livingston, died, Tuesday, September 4, 2012, peacefully, at home, after courageously battling brain cancer. In observance, his family will wear gray in honor of their father and others affected by brain cancer.

Mr. Shulman was predeceased by his mother and father, Gertrude and Nathan Shulman. He is survived by his beloved wife Carol (nee: Cattell) Shulman, his three daughters, Georgette Bach and her husband Tommy, Heather Spergel and her husband Drew and Leslie Shulman, his sister, Susan Schiff and her husband Mark and four grandchildren, Amanda, Matthew, Nathan and Gabriella.

Mr. Shulman was born in Brooklyn and was raised in central New Jersey before moving to Livingston 46 years ago. He was a teacher in the Livingston School System for 26 years. He was a dedicated landlord and was the 2012 Honored Person of the Year by the West Essex Property Owners Association. Mr. Shulman also retired from the US Army Reserves as a Major and he was an avid Harley Davidson motorcycle enthusiast.

Funeral services were held 11 am Friday, September 7, 2012 at Bernheim-Apter-Kreitzman Suburban Funeral Chapel in Livingston.

Memorial contributions can be made to the National Brain Tumor Society, 124 Watertown Street, Suite 2D, Watertown, MA 02472. www.braintumor.org (800) 770-8287

Eulogy:

READ by Heather Spergel: How can you sum up a person’s life in just minutes? How can you convey what a person truly means to you in just minutes? How can you help people understand the essence of a man in minutes? We will do our best. Many people knew our Dad as either their landlord, or their teacher, or their customer, or one thing or another. Not many people know the whole Mike Shulman.

Our dad, Mike Shulman lived a busy 70 years. Born in Brooklyn and raised in Heightstown, NJ, dad grew up on a 35 acre farm- riding tractors, growing watermelons, and helping out in his parents’ store. Life wasn’t easy back then, but Dad learned through his parents how to work hard to achieve his goals with integrity and pure sweat. Our Dad never sat still all his life, excelling in many professions and spreading his passion for life everywhere he went. He taught the children of Livingston in the elementary schools for 26 yrs. Adults often approached him in public with memories of him playing the guitar in class and he recognized many of them just by their faces- and could even tell you what they did in class. Amazing. He also volunteered on the First Aid Squad in East Hanover, besides applying bandaids and icepacks for his three girls at home. All the while, Dad served his country in the Army Reserves, finally retiring as a Major. In real estate he sold properties with Century 21 and then with Weichert Realtors. Let us not forget to mention that Dad started his real estate empire over 43 years ago with the purchase of his first property in Montclair on Midland Avenue. To purchase this property, Mom and Dad begged the teacher’s credit union for money. The board never lent money for a house before. That never stopped our Dad. In fact, telling him something could not be done, only challenged him more. Our parents stood before the board and pleaded their case- selling not only the idea, but also themselves as a safe gamble. He taught us to never give up and sell your ideas to the right person at the right time.

On June 6, 2012, The POA (Property Owner’s Association) of Essex County honored our Dad as their Man of the Year for 2012. The whole family surprised him at the meeting- walking down the aisle as he stared on in disbelief. He cried with joy at receiving the award- truly honored- and shed honest tears of sadness over his illness in front of his peers. Having support and cudos from his people in the association warmed his heart deeply. As a dedicated member of the POA, our Dad loved talking to his fellow members- offering advice before each meeting. Who better to learn from than someone who made mistakes and learned from them over the years? Did you check the water in the boiler? Do you know how to effectively evict a troublesome tenant? He was the man to ask. Was he tough and did he have a huge knowledge base? YES. He worked tirelessly to build and maintain his business with integrity.

Dad kept busy over the years, rarely sitting down, and worked 7 days a week. As a result, he leaves behind his 8 booming rooming and apartment buildings in Montclair. But many who are often too soft spoken to speak up or those that fade into the wood-work also know the softer side of our Dad. The one that reached out to people in need, people hurting or in pain, someone struggling with mental health issues and needing housing or just needing another chance. He helped people with bale money, gave money to people that hit on hard times, listened when people needed him, and he often put aside his own needs to help in any way he could. He made interesting business decisions over the years because he truly was a softy at heart. In business, we now carry the torch for Dad, caring for those who need housing in the Montclair area and doing our best to be as respectful and as kind as our dad strived to be- and with the backbones to be strong in the face of those that do not understand that my dad did not, and we do not provide free housing. All with dignity, respect, and tough love.

He stood as a proud father of us girls, and often boasted about his four grand children, Matthew, Amanda, Nathan, and Gabriella. He spent many Friday’s attending Nathan and Amanda’s guitar lessons. Dad always supported his grandchildren by attending school shows and parties, and by giving advice at every corner. He voiced that he wished he spent more time doing these things.

We remember the Dad-ism’s he always said,…. It’s not WHAT you know, it’s WHO you know. Listen more than you talk. You can always do better. Show your kids how you want them to behave, instead of telling them.

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HEATHER continues reading: What was it like to grow up in our house? A fireplace lit all winter long, Friday night pizzas and chocolate cake with coca cola, and learning to ride a bike by him letting go of me on the hill, and singing The Gambler from Kenny Rogers on road trips and camping. As a little girl, Dad held my hand as he walked me down the streets of NY for auditions- his firm hand gently holding mine. He recognized something musical in me and nurtured it, teaching me that I could strive for big goals and achieve them. We often clashed and I think I pushed his buttons more often than not. He was a tough but loving Dad. As a child I thought he was being overly critical and I often felt hurt, but as the years past I realized he only wanted to push me to be my best. When I went to college, we didn’t say goodbye to each other- we just weren’t getting along. It took years for us to repair our fractured relationship. Choosing to leave my profession and learn my dad’s business in 2002 shocked maybe people, and it meant daily interaction and lots of lessons- both fun and at times stressful. He had his special way of doing everything. For example, he instructed me, as a 30 something year old, how to write out a check to his liking and told me to mark down when I took lunch so that he didn’t pay me for that time. We eventually laughed about those things-well sort of laughed- I think he still didn’t want to pay me for lunch breaks. One night, always willing to try new things, dad tasted eel sushi with me and soon insisted that it was an experience he never needed to repeat. He and I learned salsa together for my wedding, twisting and turning, laughing and gritting our teeth at times. Months ago, I sat down and wrote my dad a long letter- clearing the air, forgiving and resolving, thanking and appreciating him. He called me and told me that when he read it, tears fell down his face. For someone who didn’t cry often, that touched me deeply. Then he brought me flowers. He walked into my house and said, “Here are flowers for my little girl.” Somehow this gesture melted years of unspoken tension away and once again, I was a child, safe in his arms.

During this last month, I felt honored to be one the safe people for dad to talk to about end of life issues. His tears of sorrow and regrets flowed from him as his time began to run short and his illness progressed. “Why couldn’t I have more time?” he pleaded to me one day. The only way I could think to repay him for all his years of love and support was to be a good listener for him, as he had been for me over the years. As I go about my daily life, things Dad taught me and showed me creep in. When I was young, he taught me to eat vegetables fresh from the ground. I’ll never mow the lawn again without hearing his voice telling me how to slightly overlap my lines to give a clean look to the lawn, or him showing me how trim the bushes so they become fuller or taller. I love you Dad- now and for always.

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GEORGETTE BACH READS: Dad always knew when I was up to something, even as a young child. I recorded myself practicing my clarinet and played it in my room so he would think I was busy practicing. This is almost just as bad as him telling me to mow the lawn and I took out a pair of scissors and told him I did it. Of course he caught me. As an adult, whenever I called my dad, he would always say, “I was just about to call you, how do you do that?” We always had this connection. I’ll never forget him directing the limo for my 40th Birthday to get everyone Starbuck’s- always helping and never afraid of what others would say. My most recent memory is that Dad decided to purchase a 1976 Stingyray corvette for me- a surprise that I’ll always treasure. Through his illness and forgetfulness, he still managed to keep it a secret and pull off the surprise of my life. I began working with my dad and sister a number of years ago- taking on the “bad cop” role my dad used to hold. This freed him to be just the “good cop” while I aimed to hold tenants accountable and learn the ropes. I quickly stepped into my father’s shoes as an active, hands-on person at the properties- showing rooms and screening tenants. He wanted to be involved in the business right up to the end. Weeks ago, I headed down to the court to do eviction filings, and Dad wanted to go with me, but couldn’t physically do it. I reassured him that he taught me well and I knew what I was doing. Standing by his side, these past few years, I learned how handle many tenant situations. All this being said, Dad will always be with me, guiding me, and watching over me.

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LESLIE SHULMAN READS: I can still hear in my head Dad counting "1, 2, 3, 4" under his breath and see his furrowed brow as we learned a new salsa step while he held me tightly and swung me around the dance floor. I can feel the shared gratification when we finally got the step and completed it flawlessly. When I was younger we would spend hours playing tennis, riding bikes, playing soccer and "running around the bases" on a baseball field near our house. As I grew up we shared not only our dancing but a whole lot of dinner dates (usually sushi) and since I was 8 I have been his motorcycle buddy... we would take rides together either alone or with a swarm of other Harley's.

To name only a couple the random but extremely handy things he has taught me over the years... how to fix a toilet, how to parallel park, ride a bike and drive a car and of course how to manage my finances aka ALWAYS SAVE! Throughout my life he also taught me to always stand up for myself, to speak clearly, with confidence and to never let anyone push me aside. Most of all through his illness he has taught me how to be strong.

Dad has always been about teaching us lessons. I was reading a quote in a magazine the other day and it stuck with me because of its truth; "This is the last great lesson your parents will teach you." To the man who has sacrificed everything for me his whole life; thank you for your unconditional love and your lessons. You have been the most loving father a daughter could ask for - for that and for teaching me how to be strong and actually... for everything, I thank you.

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HEATHER continues reading- Always a funny person, he was the one to hold our hair when we were sick, all the while joking about the situation. Witty, charismatic, and hilarious with a drip of sarcasm at times, Dad told us in the weeks prior to his death, “I look back at pictures of myself when I was younger, and HECK, YEAH, I WOULD DATE ME!” … and we agree, what a cutie! My mom asked him during these last weeks, “Do you recognize me?”, and he said, “Yes, of course I do, Barbara.” Yup, always a sense of humor.

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READ by HEATHER- Our mom wrote the following: “To my Loving Husband. We spent 44 years married this August 11th. Everyone would laugh and marvel when I told them how long we had been married, but then when I said we dated each other 8 years prior to marriage, all they could say was WOW!! A Long Time!!!! We gave each other so much during those years. Good times, bad times, happy times, and sad times, plus 3 beautiful girls who are the light of our lives. We are so proud of you for being who you are. Life wouldn’t be the same without them and it won’t be the same without you by my side. I will love you always and forever.” Love, Carol

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READ by HEATHER- How can you communicate the depth of pain that losing someone like our dad causes in just minutes? How can the depth of our sorrow truly come through? He was an amazing father, and his lessons live on in our hearts and actions forever- a loving grandfather- lending advice at every corner, a devoted husband, a supportive uncle, fun cousin to grow up with, charismatic dance partner, fellow hog rider, army officer, landlord, and so much more- persistent, passionate, caring, well-meaning, and unstoppable.

I recorded a song back in the late 80’s when they had recording booths in the malls- for years he listened to that rickety old tape. Weeks ago he listened and cried as we played it for him. I felt terrible hearing the quality of the recording, and although I hadn’t sung in 6 years professionally, I went and re-recorded the song for him. Maybe I’m out of practice, but it didn’t matter to Dad. During his last few weeks with us, I crawled onto his bed with him, and played the song to him again, and he put his head against mine. “Beautiful”, he said. Hearing the song touched him deeply and we gave up trying to keep our eyes dry when we hear it. We will forever remember the emotion on his face as he listened.

We are sure he is looking down on us from heaven now, doing his favorite things- riding his prized Harley and above all, salsa dancing, and we are also sure that NOW he remembers ALL the steps, and has the courage to ask anyone he wants to dance. To Dad, we LOVE you, always will, and will think of you and miss you every day.

Dance on Dad!

(Cue the song- “Evergreen” recorded by Heather Spergel)

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To all those who were unable to attend our Dad’s funeral or missed part or all of this eulogy, we hope posting this helps everyone feel like they were there!