Judy B Wetstein

A juicy hamburger. That was a must.

A competitive word game such as Scrabble or Upwords. That, too, was always essential.

A reality television show featuring a family with 42 kids. There was no better way to escape.

A carefully placed knickknack. Who doesn’t love a good stuffed owl?

A family to adore and one that will overwhelmingly provide you with the adoration you deserve.

It was these little things, along with some not-so-little things, with which Judy Wetstein found her greatest pleasures. Judy, who passed away in September at the age of 79, was as traditional a wife and mother as one could be, taking care of those around her while leaving little time to worry herself. When she did have a moment, though, between looking after her husband, Robert, and calling her three children, making sure they were okay, Judy would find the time to enjoy some of these simple pleasures.

And it was her enjoyment of the aforementioned guilty pleasures [along with her family] that allowed Judy to leave an indelible mark on those around her. Her passing left a void that can’t, nor should it be, filled. However, the idea that Judy remains a part of her family’s core is not just a trite saying from a sympathy card.

Her presence will be felt whenever her family sits down at a restaurant and someone orders a hamburger. Judy liked them juicy and wasn’t shy about sending it back if they didn’t pass muster.

Her presence will be felt whenever the Scrabble or Upwords boards come out. The same can be said for dominoes or Rummikub, two more of her favorite games which she always attacked as if she were playing in the seventh game of the World Series.

Her presence will be felt on a random Tuesday evening when the phone doesn’t ring and there will be no one on the other end to tell you what happened on the latest episode of Kate Plus Eight or Dancing With the Stars. What we wouldn’t give for just one more of those phone calls.

Her presence will be felt all around her home, and the homes of her children, all of which feature the countless knickknacks or tchotchkes that Judy loved. The jokes about the dust collectors were prevalent but the owls, placards, turtles, oh and don’t forget the plastic flowers and foods, all combined to make Judy special.

Finally, her presence will be felt when you look at her husband Bob, with whom she celebrated 60 years of marriage the week before her passing, knowing that half of him is missing. Her presence will be felt when you look at her daughters, Wendy and Tracy, or her son, Wayne, and know that there will no longer be any of those special talks around the kitchen table.

Her son-in-law Kevin and her grandsons, Thomas and Braden, will also serve as a reminder of just how much Judy is missed. When you look at each of those family members, though, you also know how much love Judy had for all of them and that the imprint she left on each of them, in her own special way, will never fade.

Judy and Bob came a very long way from the Brooklyn neighborhood in which they were born and eventually met. They planted the seeds of a family in Nanuet and it was Judy who tended that metaphorical garden, hovering and caring, pruning when someone’s wings needed to be clipped and stepping back when room for growth was required.

She was a wife, a mom, a friend, and a confidant, always thinking of others before herself. Judy always shared what she had, never holding back when someone she loved was in trouble or having a hard time.

To try and provide a description for the lifetime’s worth of love that she gave and received wouldn’t do Judy justice. So, take a bite of a nice, juicy hamburger, sit down with your stuffed owl and watch some reality TV. That’s what Judy would have done.