Margaret Mendelsohn passed away on January 14, 2024. Born in February,

1914, she was only a few weeks away from her 110 th birthday. She is

survived by her three sons Paul, Eric and David, their wives Ilse, Ann and

Dawn and Margaret's seven grandchildren and six great grandchildren. Her

eldest son Paul remembers her as follows.

Born in 1914, our mom recalled learning of the pandemic of 1918 on board a

steamship, heading back to her parents' families in Vienna. She recalled

excitement in the streets in Europe as The Great War (WWI) ended. She grew

up in Toronto, then made her way to NYC to make her living in graphic arts

and ceramics. She met our dad, Josef, a recent Norwegian immigrant before

WWII. They married in 1946 and became parents soon after, moving to the

suburbs on Long Island, and raising sons, Paul, Eric and David. We were a

reform Jewish household; my immigrant parents did their best to honor their

heritage and put the trauma of the war behind them.

A few things she never tired of telling us, as we were growing up: "This too

shall pass." "Blessed be he who expects nothing, for he shall not be

disappointed." Her wishes were pretty modest - it didn't take much to make

her happy. She kept a running, written record of our early years, while dad

took endless pictures. Her interest in people, in music and in books was

eclectic; she had an inclusive view of the world. Mom and dad loved people

and kept close relations with friends from their early days.

As we were beginning to leave the nest, she began teaching art therapy at a

school for disabled children. She corresponded regularly, for years with

"adoptees" in South America with Save the Children. She returned to

creating pottery, selling her wares at craft fairs. She and dad traveled widely,​

collecting exotic rocks along the way. After he died in 1992, she moved to

Carleton Willard Village in where, in her eighties, she drove weekly to a

nearby school to read one-to-one with struggling young readers.

Always hard of hearing, her hearing and vision became severely

compromised in recent years. It became very difficult to call - even if she

occasionally heard the phone, conversations become shorter and more

stilted- but we never heard her complain. "How are you today, Mom?" "Oh,

not too bad"... or, occasionally, "not so hot today, but it's nothing. I'll be

better tomorrow." All she wanted to know is that all her sons, her daughters

in law, her grands and great grands were well. She loved us and asked no

more than that we live our dreams and be happy.

Lucid 'til the end, she ambled with her walker to the cafe for lunch, no longer

able to recognize the many friends saying hello - until only a week ago. She

then awoke one morning, "not feeling like herself". David, Eric and I

assembled at her bedside for a few days, brought guitars and sang her into

the afterlife. She went to join her ancestors exactly 76 years after giving

birth to me – off by only two hours.

Sweet dreams, Mom. May our children live with the courage, the love and the

happiness that they came to know in their grandmother.