Nessa Fay Lerner (Wilk) remembering my parents, Irving and Belle Lerner...
They were just a generation before me, but it seems like a page out of history. They had such a simple, well-ordered life, solid values where right and wrong were very clear, and concrete goals like providing for their family and helping their children to "get ahead". The struggle wasn't easy, but unlike today's problems, it was clear-cut and they pulled together. What stands out over time are the values that Frank and I were instilled. With. They came straight down the Lerner pike - heavily influenced by their own families' struggles and by the Depression....
First and foremost as the Work Ethic. "You can always play, but you can't always work." That was the motto I was raised with. If ever a choice between work or play, TAKE THE JOB!
The separation of men and women's roles was very clear in our home. Dad was the breadwinner who provided well enough for his family that mother was able to be a full-time homemaker. Each was comfortable in his separate domain, and there was no conflict about this.
College was important for boys but only incidental for girls who would do better to work and save for a dowry, since getting married was the only goal that mattered for girls.
The real (and only) value of getting an education was a practical one - getting a better job.
It was a clear-cut line, nothing wishy-washy, and not easy to "buck" for a daughter who had some ideas of her own.
Yet for all his hard work, Dad managed a balanced life of work and play, and mother valued Dad...and gave him the freedom to enjoy his leisure time, which was limited. As far back as I can remember (even when he was a milkman and his longjohns would be hanging in the kitchen to dry), Dad worked nights and was always sleeping when I would get home from school. Yet he managed to find time for bowling, cards, his health club daily, and B'nai B'rith Lodge activities, which they both shared. And for many years, there was the Thursday Evening Group - Uncle Nat and Auntie Alice, Mother and Dad, and the Finkels, the Grossmans or the Jaffees. Above the clicking Man Jong tiles (or bridge dummy) I'd heard the women talk about their children from my bedroom, while the men were in the kitchen playing gin rummy. Although I would have cringed to hear Mother talk about me, I also wondered why she didn't since "the children" were often the topic of conversation. She admitted that she was conscious that others would sometimes get carried away talking about their kids to the point of boredom, so she consciously tried to refrain. Besides, she always knew when I was listening.
Dad would not go out to eat! Nevertheless, Thursday nights we ate out - Auntie Alice and Elaine, Mother, Frankie and I - with "food to go" for Dad. Since Dad invariably fell asleep at the Movies, they stopped going eventually. The Saturday night ritual became "open-faced cheese melt and tomato sandwiches on toast" eaten at a bridge table in the living room while watching Lawrence Welk on T.V.
One of the high points in my parents' lives (after the children's weddings and birth of the grandchildren) was when Dad became president of his B'nai B'rith Lodge. He encouraged leadership in others and looked at their potential, not their faults. Although he had only an 8th grade education, in his lodge he was recognized as a leader among the men. He was never in awe of education or money...he "poo pooed" the theories of those with college educations who couldn't pass his informal test of experience or common sense. He discounted "psychology" although he used it as second nature in his work. But he respected learned men, especially his cousin Sol Schecter, and was very proud when Sol joined his lodge.
My mother greased the wheels behind the scenes. She made our house a home. Most remarkable was her acceptance of things, which were unchangeable, her acceptance of people without judgment, her acceptance of herself, and never having a bad work to say about anyone.
It was a life of pleasant routine and love, and occasional "letting off steam" where Frankie and I were concerned. Into this routine Uncle Nat arrived daily for mid-morning coffee and conversation with Mom, on his way to Ace Laundry. Dad would get home from work about that time, and finding them over the kitchen table would throw out an off-handed remark like, "Why don't you tell him about our sex life too?!" Dad had no patience for gossip! Both Mother and Dad were content in their lives together.
After Mother died in 1960, Dad found a routine to fill the void. He had one special goal...to make a trip to Israel. That he did, the year before he died.
I have a memory of my father that I cherish. It was a day we spent together in December 1971. Bob and I, Kevin and Brett were visiting in L.A. from Amherst during Christmas vacation. In order to spend the day with me, Dad agreed to do anything I wanted. I drove a hard bargain. With six-year-old Brett, the three of us went to the museums in downtown Los Angeles, something I had never done with my sports-minded father, but had long wished to do. To my astonishment, my father was glued to every exhibit. Every description of every exhibit had to be read totally. There we were in the Natural History Museum and he was like a little kid in a candy store. We lingered over lunch, talking in a way we had little opportunity for in the past.
That very day I knew...if only I had one day in the work to spend with my father, THAT was the day.
Unknown to anyone at the time, Dad was to die six months later.... They were good parents. I miss them.