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RB |
Ron Brounes
2319A WORDSWORTH ▪ |
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FOR WHAT
IT’S WORTH
| “Circle of Life” |
Issue 81 |
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| By: Ron Brounes |
April 2007 |
My
daughter Emily (Emmy) just had a big week.
She is mastering the art of rolling over (though still occasionally gets
her arm caught in the process). She
started eating solid foods, first rice cereal and then green beans (yuck), and
is already less picky than her dad. She
went shopping for a new car seat and a high chair because she is beginning to
outgrow the current ones. (Unfortunately, for me, she and her mom really seem
to enjoy these shopping excursions together.)
She attended her first The Little
Gym class and is a proud and competent “Bug” (though I pulled a few muscles
in the opening stretching exercises). She
has developed a hearty laugh (more distinctive than her previous coo, shriek,
and giggle) and melts our hearts every time she “performs.” She met several new relatives and family
friends (and tried to restrain her slight irritation from the constant poking
and prodding from these strangers). She
also said goodbye to her beloved “Pop.” Pincus Brounes passed away on
Emmy
only met her Pop on a few occasions, though numerous photos of her (including
one of them together) hung prominently in his room. During their brief visits, she sensed a
feeling of utter joy and pride and even noticed him shed a tear on two when it
was time for her to leave. She is sad
that she will not have the opportunity to get to know him better because she
has heard what a kind, wonderful, and gentle man he was. There will be no nightly Hanukkah gelt during her favorite holiday or the occasional
chocolate snack (over Mommy and Daddy’s objections). He will not be able to attend grandparent’s
days and various programs at her school or participate in the milestone events
through the years. Mainly she will miss
out on the ordinary day-to-day visits, lunches, and dinners where they would have
discussed the issues of the day and shared those secrets that only
granddaughters and grandfathers have between them (and then enjoyed an ice
cream cone as their just rewards). Her
cousins, Lori and Leslie have told her how much he relished his role as Pop and
how he had always looked forward to having another “Little One” to play with
and spoil though he undoubtedly began to lose hope when his son (that’s me) turned
40, 41, 42, etc. Over the past few years, when his smiles
became more rare, nothing could bring joy to Pop’s face faster than the mention
of (or, even better, a visit from) his grandkids. Despite the void she suddenly feels, Emmy continues
to hear so many wonderful stories about him, mainly from Mamaw
(Grandma Brounes), Aunt Tootie, and Dad.
A LASTING LEGACY
I’ve
talked to Emmy in great detail about the standing room only crowd at the
funeral and how so many friends and family members came to pay their last
respects. I explained how the value of a
man’s/woman’s life should not be measured by dollars held in a bank account or
possessions accumulated over time, but rather by the friendships formed and
relationships maintained over a lifetime.
By those measurements, her Pop was an extremely wealthy man. He touched so many people during his 86
years; the memorial allowed me to take one final snapshot of his life through
the faces and voices of those folks he held so dear. Without exception, everyone had kind words to
share with our family and it was obvious that their affection and admiration were
genuine and not merely lip service paid to grieving mourners. He was the Will Rogers of his generation,
never met a man (woman or child) he didn’t like. But even more appropriately, Pop never met a man (woman or child) who didn’t love him in
return.
As
I looked around the sanctuary, I saw the faces of his lifelong friends, the
people who dined with my parents on weekends and traveled with them near and
far (including the occasional Texas A&M game in
luxurious
I
saw the faces of the many members of our synagogue (his home away from home) who
had served on committees with him and knew him as a righteous man and a pillar
of the community. I saw the professional
associates he knew from his 50-odd years in the trenches of the retail
furniture business. I saw the caregivers
who brought great comfort and dignity to his life even during the challenging
times of the past few years. I saw his
many in-laws, but remembered that those words were not really applicable to Pop. Brothers-in-law
were brothers; sisters-in-law were sisters; and his son-in-law was every bit a
real son to him for over 25 years (except the days after each Thanksgiving when
they were football rivals). He
considered my sister’s in-laws to be more than just dear friends. They were his family, his “mispucha” (family in Hebrew) in the truest sense. I saw his extended family members who knew
him as the patriarch of the entire Brounes/Garfinkel
clan; they attended countless holidays and other occasions at his home where he
served as gracious host by greeting his guests at the door and filling glasses
of Mogen David. His nephews honored his
memory by serving as pallbearers at the funeral. When I saw my wife, I became saddest because she
never really had the chance to get to know him.
Yet, I think she realized that he was the same warm, gentle soul even in
his declining state. His face always
responded when she visited and I am convinced that he recognized her and
understood just how happy she made me (and the rest of the family).
I
saw the faces of my immediate family and remembered how Dad was home with us for
dinner every night promptly at
I
saw my mom’s face and thought about the great team they made for almost 50
years. Theirs was a love affair that
great romance novels are written about.
Dad had no real hobbies; he was not in a weekly golf game or poker
group. Instead, my mom was his hobby and,
as long as they were together, that was all the excitement and enjoyment he
ever needed. Over the past few years,
she faced the challenges of becoming his caregiver, a burden he would have
never wished on anyone. She was
selflessly there for him every day and night, never complaining, always
cheerful. She remained his life partner,
his best friend, his constant companion.
EMMY’S STRESSFUL WEEK
Nothing
can help bring happiness to a somber room like a little baby and Emmy fulfilled
her role quite masterfully. She smiled
at the most appropriate times; provided a warm cheek for Mamaw’s
kisses; and rarely fussed when passed incessantly from new friend to family
member. She flirted with the handsome
men (mainly on the Brounes side) and babbled endlessly with the chatty
women. (She fit in well with the family.) Emmy even seemed impressed to learn about Pop’s
proud Aggie (Texas A&M) background. She joins her Longhorn Dad in one final
heartfelt tribute in his honor…GIG EM AGS. We love you and miss you, Dad, Pop, Pinc.
FOR WHAT IT’S WORTH is a publication of Brounes & Associates focusing on not much of
anything other than personal anecdotes, musings, and mindless thoughts about life. Please call Ron
at 713-962-9986 (