Time In A Bottle One Mother's Musings

Tag : Child Knitted Sweater
As I was searching the filing cabinet this morning to find somemuch needed documents, I came across a videotape hiding way in theback of the drawer. It was a video I hadnt seen in a number ofyears; I thought it was lost in the Lubin Basement Sewer Flood of2007 (a topic for another article). The video is entitled MothersDay 88. It was the first video we took with our brand-newcamcorder, a special gift from my in-laws.

Although I was late for work and had a million errands toaccomplish, I needed to plop the tape into the VCR and watch thefirst installment. It was the first Mothers Day celebrated in mineand Lennys first apartment, and it was very special to me since Iwas an expectant mother for the first time.

Tears came to my eyes as I saw everyone who has been immortalizedon that tape. It was as if it took place yesterday, although itcertainly did notit was 20 years ago, and we were all 20 yearsyounger. Then, my folks and in-laws were closer to my present age,my brother Jacob was a young college student, my Uncle Arthur hadno gray hairs, and my brother-in-law Harris and sister-in-law Orawere newlyweds. Most importantly, my grandparents, Rose and MorrisSterenbuch, were vibrant and alive. I felt like calling my BubbyRose immediately to tell her about finding the tape, when Irealized that just wasnt possible. We commemorated my ZaydeMorriss yahrzeit a couple of months ago, and we shall commemoratemy Bubby Roses yahrzeit this week.

Its hard to believe that it will be 13 years since Bubby Rosespassing. Rose Sterenbuch was an amazing woman. She was strong yetunassumingvery old-schoolyet she spoke her mind when necessary. Ispent many a night being catered to at their Geranium Avenueapartment in Flushing when I attended Queens College. I couldalways count on my favorite lamb chops for dinner and french toastfor breakfast. She was always busy. When I would awaken early inthe morning to get ready for an 8:00 class, she would already bebusy in the kitchen.

My Bubby Rose and Zayde Morris were both a vital part of mychildhood, as well as an important component of my early years as aparent. When Lenny and I married and moved to far-away Flatbush,Zayde quickly learned the route from Queens to Brooklyn, and Icould count on a weekly visit. We would stroll up and down OceanParkway, and they would enjoy their great-grandchildren.

Bubby Rose was blessed to know my eldest three children.Unfortunately, she passed away when I was expecting her eventualnamesake, Rochel Raiza. Bubby Rose had an incredible amount ofpatience. I remember her sitting with me as a child and working onmy penmanship. I can clearly see her sitting with my three eldestchildren and reading them books. Sadly, Bubby never met Rochel,Yosef, or Lea. But somehow the videos and pictures keep her amongstthe living. When Lea puts on a sweater knitted by Bubby, she willproudly say that Bubby Rose made it for her. The tears come to myeyes then, and I realize that the sweater originally made forNaftali, Shoshana, or Rivka can be handed down as a familyheirloom, and we can all benefit from her handiwork.

Bubby Rose would always remember everyones birthday andanniversary. June was always a particularly busy month when it cameto birthdays: Naftali, Lenny, my father-in-law (Isaac Lubin), andmy mom (Esther Davidson), all have June birthdays (a very happybirthday to all of you!).

Alas, we lost Bubby Rose the same week we celebrated my momsbirthday. In a way, when we celebrate our own birthdays, wecelebrate our parents, who assisted in our coming into this world.So as we both celebrate my moms birthday and commemorate hermothers passing this week, we can take pause and be thankful fortwo such wonderful women.


Phyllis Joy Lubin is an attorney with Rosenfeld & Maidenbaum, LLP,who resides in Cedarhurst with her husband Leonard and sixchildren: Naftali, Shoshana, Rivka, Rochel, Yosef, and Lea. Shewelcomes your questions and comments at MothersMusings@gmail.com.




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