October 28, 2024Monday, October 28, 2024

Just a thought… If I cannot make it better, I will not make it worse. [Mira Frankl]

This is the blog I never wanted to write, but knew one day would have to be penned. And I will beg your indulgence in reading it.

On Wednesday morning, one of our dear Mira’s two sons texted to tell us that his beloved mother had died in hospital. After being unable to be roused from a deep sleep, she was taken Tuesday evening to hospital and passed away hours later due to heart, lung and kidney failure. Earlier in the week she’d been told it was a matter of days. Her 99-year-old body was tired and she was ready to go.

Alas, selfishly, we could never be prepared to say good-bye.

My friend, I could write a book about her amazing life, but would come up short in my efforts for “Mondays with Mira” and would not dare try. You’ve read some of my recollections of her life: a teen-aged prisoner of a Nazi work camp during WWII (who even dared to dilute the metal being used to make bombs to sabotage them), a gifted linguist who spoke languages so fluently that her captors assumed she was German (instead of Yugoslavian, which she was), and a beloved mother, adored wife and a cancer survivor.

I haven’t even told you that, against her husband’s fearful wishes, Mira, the second woman in Israel to get her driver’s license, would hide soldiers in the back of her station wagon and drive over mined roads – headlights off – to get them to and from the front during her early years in Israel, to which she and her Jewish husband relocated in the country’s infancy.

I could tell you these and dozens more stories, but what I might risk leaving out is how incredibly warm and wise she was. She called Rob and me “her kids” and could never do enough for us. She asked for little, but appreciated every moment we spent with her.

My final hours with Mira came last Monday, the day before her departure to the hospital. Her beautiful and strong fingernails (which never saw polish in her life) had grown so long that they were making her crazy.

I took my electric filing system, cuticle conditioner, nail treatment and hand cream. We spent an hour holding hands as I did her nails at the dining table; she was so thrilled with the outcome that she couldn’t stop raving and smiling. It took very little to make that face glow.

But nothing fulfilled her more than giving: in recent months she gifted us an old letter opener, a bathrobe of hers, two nightgowns she’d barely worn and an umbrella a friend had given her years ago. She tried to give us this ornament or that picture, but we told her we had too much stuff of our own!

And now a thank-you to YOU: her wonderment and joy at seeing the hundreds of birthday greetings September 1 on my Facebook page was thrilling. She was incredulous! Her appreciation of Dottie and Livi visits, her love of Colin and Jane and even her flirting with Mike Cooper (well, HE says she was) when he met her, were a joy to witness.

I will reflect often upon what we think gave Mira her longevity and sharpness of mind: this woman who continued to dominate at Bridge and her word search books, who read voraciously and enjoyed Jeopardy despite English being her, I don’t know, sixth language were inspiring.

She consumed no caffeine, nicotine or alcohol her entire life, and kept salt and sugar to a minimum (but loved her Chinese food). She ate small meals and stopped when she was full. We introduced her to new foods like pumpkin pie, but her all-time favourite was still the humble mashed potato.

She loved to laugh, cried unabashedly, and expressed her immense heart with no reservations. She never upset herself over things she could not change; she mourned those lost in the ongoing wars in the Middle East (on both sides) and worried over her friends’ children who reside there. She regretted being too ill to vote in the recent BC election. She hoped “The Woman” would beat Trump in the US.

That full, tired heart of hers was filled with love. Every day was a gift and she would awaken and say, “Well, I am still here, my dears!” when she would email or call.

Widowed, she loved her newfound life in Canada, especially in quiet Sidney, BC, where she settled 25 years ago, where residents and visitors alike revelled in conversations with the small, white-haired woman who would go out every single day with her walker (until the last two weeks) to get her groceries, to get her hair done and nails trimmed. Until last winter, she was a part an integral part of Sidney life through her dedication to volunteering. She gave and she gave until her body gave out. And when it did, she made sure it would be given to science. I hope she helps unlock secrets to healthy longevity!

Rob and I are heartbroken at her passing. No one in our lives will love as she did – without guile or reservation, with no expectations and only love and good wishes. She urged us to travel while we can, reminded us to be forgiving but not be taken advantage of. She herself gave and forgave, and although she is no longer at home to welcome us for visits, ice cream and whatever pastries she’d picked up with which to surprise Rob, we will always cherish those hours, those stories, those incredibly strong and sturdy hugs and countless kisses.

We will continuously marvel at how chance brought her into our lives. And our gratitude will be as unending as our love for her. Now she dances again with her beloved Zvonko and her dear grandson Avi in a place that knows no war, no winds – only joy and gentle breezes.

Her memory will always be a blessing. She showed us how to live.

Mira Frankl

Sept 1 1925 – Oct 23 2024