דורות. 15.3.06
הספד של אביב.


אמא - סבתא טובה
מודל 22 , המון קילומטרים – רכב אספנות. כבר לא מייצרים כאלה.
מודל של יציבות וכוח בין הספקנות,התהייה ואי הוודאות.
תמיד יודעת מה היא רוצה ומה נכון.
נאחזת בעקרונות פשוטים אך מוצקים להראות לה הדרך.
להיות חזקה.
להיות עצמאית.
להיראות בן אדם.
לעשות תסרוקת ומניקור גם לפני אשפוז דחוף. שיחכו, לא נורא, אני ככה לא הולכת."
אף פעם לא להראות שקשה. אף פעם!
בכאבי תופת, עם גוף מתפורר ולב שעובד בשארית כוחותיו, אף אחד לא יראה אותה בוכה, אף אחד לא
ישמע תלונה. "אמא, מה נשמע?" –"היום מצויין.", ואתה יודע, שלא מצוין והיא כל כך קרובה לסוף.
-"מה, למאיר שלו יש ספר חדש, ואתה כבר קורא אותו? אני מזמינה אחריך!"... ואני לא משוכנע
שתשרדי את היום.
אופטימיות חסרת גבולות. "כמובן שאני חוזרת הביתה!". "שום בית אבות. שום מטפלת. שום פיליפינית.
מה, השתגעתם?!" לא להיות תלויה באיש. לא להזדקק לעזרה.
"אז נתנו לי מקל הליכה, זה אומר שחייבים לקחת אותו לכל מקום?"
"אני רואה מצויין גם בלי משקפיים. אם הייתי מרכיבה אותם כשאמרו לי, בגיל 10 , כבר לא הייתי רואה
כלום."
לא להקשות על אף אחד. "לא צריך לקחת אותי, אגד מגיע לכל מקום".
אוי, תהיי לנו בריאה, או כמו שענת אומרת: "אין עלייך!".
ועוד לא דיברנו על שמחת החיים שלך: לעשות, לחוות, לראות, להספיק.
בגיל שישים גילית את העולם בנסיעה ראשונה לחו"ל, ומאז לא הפסקת לכבוש עוד ועוד יעדים.
תמיד ללמוד ולהרחיב אופקים – תיאטרון, שירה, פסיכולוגיה, מכל הבא לראשון.
וכמובן, חברייך הנאמנים ביותר, הפילים, שמאות מהם עדיין מחכים לשובך, שתמשיכי לאהוב ולטפח
אותם, ולקבץ אותם מכל קצווי תבל. הם נהדרים, חזקים ומיוחדים – ממש כמוך.
נתגעגע, נאהב, נזכור – את זה נבטיח.
נהיה חזקים כמוך – אין סיכוי.

אביב

Written for Doreen’s vegan cookbook.

About Tova Ron, my mother. By Aviv Ron

 

When you are asked to write a few words about someone it is a challenging task for the concern you will not be able to capture what is special about this person or what are the few things you want others to know about them. It is particularly hard to do about someone very dear to you and it is almost impossible to do when it comes to your own mother.

Tova, my mother, left us in Purim 2006 – exactly 18 years ago. It is a long time, so memories start to fade, and details are a bit blurry, yet the core of the character and the essence of who my mother was are still noticeably clear and present.  She was an extraordinarily strong woman, and one of the most altruistic people I have ever met.  In her lifetime, people did not use the term ego very much, but there is no doubt her ego was very modest. She didn’t attend too much to her needs, and set her mind since childhood to serve a duty – to her Zionist youth organization at first, to work in agriculture after settling as a young adult in the Moshava Kineret, to Kibbutz Dorot, to her first and second husband, to her various jobs, and increasingly to her growing family, ending up with 15 grandchildren and many more great grandchildren, of whom she was particularly proud. 

While it was easy to tell how much she always cared about others more than she did about herself, it was harder to know what a tough woman she was. She was very sensitive and took a lot to heart, yet nothing could break her spirit, positive attitude and determination.  From every crisis she had in life she came out stronger. At the age of sixteen she relentlessly convinced her parents to leave Czechoslovakia and make Aliyya to Palestine.  Her parents – neither one an easy person to persuade – eventually gave up and thus saved from the Nazis. At the age of twenty-six Tova lost her husband Ilan in Israel’s Independence war and was left with two daughters of her own, age 4 years and 4 months and took care of her husband’s first daughter too. In Kibbutz Dorot life was never easy as everyone worked extremely hard to keep the community successful and growing.  My mother passed this period very well while expanding the family and raising me and my sister Orit, in addition to the four daughters she shared with my father, Haim.

Later, my parents left the Kibbutz and, at a relatively advanced age, needed to develop independent careers with truly little formal education and not much relevant experience in anything.  Tova managed to always keep herself busy, productive, and producing income to support the family. She worked as a nanny, a cook in hotel kitchens, and a bank teller in bank Leumi.

Because this is a cookbook, I will mention the role the kitchen had in our home. The famous saying my mother had, when it turned out there was a piece of information, she was not aware of, was: “I am always in the kitchen, so I never know what’s going on.”  We must remember that in those days kitchens were quite different from the open and central spaces they are today in modern houses. Our kitchens were typically 4-wall closed, small rooms with enough place for one person, and this person was my mother. We occasionally came-in to peel apples or lick the remainder of whipped cream from the mixer, but for the most part – dishes just came out complete to the dining table served by my mother. She was a wonderful cook and became famous amongst the grandchildren for her schnitzels, which she used to beat until they became the thinnest ones on earth, and for her chicken in gravy which I have unsuccessfully tried all my life to copy. I loved the other meats she loved preparing like liver or Kurkevanim, her puree with fried onions, her incomparable fried cauliflower, the soups, and many of the cakes, especially Floumen kuchen – plum cake, which I love to make from time to time. In our days people adopted the Mediterranean tradition of taking lunch breaks from work, usually from 14:00 to 16:00. I always remember my mother rushing from work, cooking a hot meal for us, washes up and then runs out again to complete her workday while we go to a little siesta.

I remember fondly our Saturday’s breakfasts. In my house it was not allowed to wake anybody up for any reason. Orit and I, like any young adult, could sleep quite late on Saturdays, but no matter when we did – the table was set with a full breakfast setting – a hardboiled egg (covered in a little sweater), half a grapefruit perfectly sliced with sugar, hallah slices, yellow cheese and coffee.  This was a treat I will always cherish.

I absolutely adored the relationship between Vered and Tova.
From day one my mother loved Vered like a daughter and this
love just kept growing, together with respect and even admiration
for Vered’s evolving career while being the amazing parent and
wife that she was. From her side, Vered adopted Tova as the
grandmother she did not have since losing Granny Gertie at the
 age of seventeen.

I enjoyed and appreciated very much how Tova became part of the
Levy family – she was always welcome at the famous Levy reunions
and Holiday celebrations, and everyone treated my mother with respect
and love. I will always be grateful to Doreen and Eitan and the entire
 family for this precious relationship.