At 105, I truly thought my Grandma was going to live forever. How do I sum up the life of someone who meant everything to me? I will try to share what it’s like being Lucille Boretz’s Granddaughter, but I assure you, my words will not do her justice.
My first core memory of being alive is resting on my Grandma’s bosom. Like pillows from heaven, I was immediately relaxed and at ease. This moment sums up my feelings towards my Grandma Lucille: A love that is very uncomplicated.
In a family of women, Grandma was our Matriarch. She was a feminist before feminism was a thing. As a little girl, I cannot overstate the importance of having a loud, confident, strong, and passionate grandmother. She embodied living life out loud. Literally. She was very loud. Her mere presence in my life enabled me to live authentically and use my voice. Literally. I am also very loud.
Grandma’s first love was the ocean. Her childhood growing up in the Rockaways makes me nostalgic for a time period I didn’t even live through. She passed her love for the beach down to us, schlepping all of us girls to the Sunny Atlantic beach club. Where her ‘Lu Laws’ ruled the day: you have to get in the water before you get your sandwich, never turn your back on the ocean, and of course the quick showers. She would line us all up assembly style showering, drying, dressing us in one fell swoop. Those Sunny Atlantic memories feel like magic, but it wasn’t magic. It was grandma. I still take quick showers to this day so if I smell bad it’s my grandma’s fault.
The story of how Lucille and Alvin met is the stuff of Rom Com gold. While attending school at Brooklyn College, she tripped down the stairs and there was Grandpa to catch her. The rest is history. 68 years of marriage. A lifetime of devotion. All thanks to her being a klutz. I once asked her what the secret was to being married that long. Hilariously unsentimental she quipped ‘Eh, what do I know? Can I get more decaf?’
I sometimes fantasize what career Grandma would’ve had if she was born at a different time. But she really made the most of her time here, and created a beautiful life for herself and everyone around her. Not to mention the invaluable role she played in my grandfather’s writing process. Serving as a rigorous sounding board for his story beats. Trust me, I’ve pitched many story ideas to her ‘Ugh, that would nevah happen!’ She was tough but always right. Uncredited but essential to his success. Her steadiness allowed him to soar. She was the woman behind the man. But she was never behind him, she was usually in front directing all of us like she was the Scorsese of Woodmere. There was never any doubt in my mind: Grandma was the boss. She did it all and made it look easy. Whenever we tried to offer praise she poo-pooed it like no big deal…but it was a big deal. It was everything.
Along with her joy and zest for life, my grandmother suffered unfathomable loss. Twice. As a new mom, I cannot imagine losing not one but two precious children. That kind of loss would break most people. But not Lucille. She was an open book. She loved to kibbitz, laugh, and gossip with family, friends, or random strangers on the street. Lucille loved life and life loved her back. Her resilience teaches me that when life sucks, keep going until it doesn’t.
When I was 7 I suffered a traumatic hand accident at my Grandparents house. Only my sister and Grandma were home. We always praise the surgeon on call for saving my hand but looking back it’s actually my Grandma(and my sister!) who was the real hero of the story. Acting quick and staying calm, she always handled shit. I didn’t thank her enough but she wouldn’t accept it anyway. She was humble to a fault, refusing praise or fanfare. But make no mistake, Grandma was a total badass.
She laughed like she lived: Generously. There is no better feeling on earth than making Grandma laugh. As a little kid with big feelings that often overwhelmed me, her laughter was an acknowledgement that I was okay, even the dark parts. She was also fiercely supportive of my work, even the weird stuff. When I showed her my dark comedy about sexual assault she turned to me and declarded ‘Jessie, I love what you’ve done with your rape.’ Hers is a legacy of laughter.
People ask me how Grandma lived so long. I have some theories. First, are these three women: Charmaine, Janet, and Laila. Their love, tenderness, and care for my Grandmother literally gave her life. These women are angels right here on earth. After a lifetime of taking care of all of us it was a karmic blessing for my Grandmother to be able to receive your brilliant care these past few years. I’m not sure if Jews believe in heaven, but if we do these three women will be the first ones let in. Thank you does not even begin to cover it.
The other reason I believe she lived so long was her relentless gratitude. Her daily exercise class, a piece of chocolate, watching kids play at the park, the warm sun on her face: nothing was too small to be worshiped. Even though she wasn’t a very religious person, I think gratitude was her religion. And I think that’s something we can all believe in.
Whenever I would pop in for a visit or pick up the phone, she was always so interested about where I’d just come from and where I was going after. She cared about everything, no detail too boring, nodding along, tongue sticking out, encouragement personified. I could’ve said, I just took a massive dump and she would’ve said ‘Oh, how wonderful Dahling!’ She showed me that true love is attention; she was just always there. The last time I saw her she looked tenderly at my new baby and my gentile then gave me a thumbs up. I will cherish that thumbs up for the rest of my life
And while I’m devastated that my daughter will not get to know her Great-Grandma Lucille, I take heart in the fact that I feel like I knew Goldie from the stories and photos you all shared. She was always alive to me. I vow to keep Grandma alive for Solly Lu, Ava, and Millie and all other future offspring of this family. Finally, homework I’m excited to do.
She was my ‘Grandma New York’ and I was her ‘Jessie from California.’ My North Star. Without her here, I feel a little lost, rudderless, and untethered. But like the stars, just because you can’t always see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
I could go on forever but I can hear her waving me off ‘Enough already. Go on and enjoy yourself, dahling!’ And I will go on, I will try to relax and enjoy this life. And when the grief comes I will let it be as big as the love. The sheer force of Grandma’s love always made me feel like I could do anything in life, even endure her death.
The whole world may not know her but she was our entire world and even though we’re all crying and freezing our butts off in Long Island we are the luckiest people I know because we get to spend the rest of our lives loving Lucille Boretz.
I loved making films about my Grandparents. I wish I’d made hundreds more. Please enjoy THIS one.
