Peggy

Our dear friend Peggy died today in Palo Alto.  It’s hard for me to write about her without making her sound like some kind of a saint, because in fact, I think she was a saintly person.  I can’t think of anyone I know who was kinder, quicker to forgive, quicker to think the best of everyone, and far more interested in others than in herself.  Peggy was in her 40s when I met her in 1992 – healthy and active, a great lover of the outdoors.  But not long after I met her she suffered some sort of mysterious accident or illness which kept her in worsening pain for the rest of her life, eventually leaving her wheelchair bound.  Yet with all she suffered, she remained sunny and busy – always thinking about how she might be of service to someone else.

Peggy and Ron were one of the ten couples who made up the chavurah I joined when Joe Podolsky and I got together. (A chavurah is a sort of created extended family.)  The core of that group had been friends since their kids were in Hebrew school together.  When I joined, those kids were getting married, and we remained friends through the births of grandchildren and seeing those grandchildren off to college and beyond. Eight of the men who were in the chavurah when I joined have died.  Peggy is the first of the women, though 20 years younger than our two oldest members.  In a group of extraordinary, accomplished people, Peggy stood out for me because of her extraordinary goodness.

Peggy, who would never ask anything for herself, became a fierce advocate for the emigree community of Russian Jews who were able to leave the former Soviet Union.  She raised money for them, she found them housing and jobs, she twisted arms on their behalf fearlessly and doggedly.  She changed their lives.  And she changed the lives of people she convinced to volunteer with them, myself included.  Perhaps because you knew Peggy would never ask anything for herself, when she asked you to do some small thing for someone else she was hard to refuse.  Over a period of years I worked with three of the families Peggy was helping to integrate into the community.  Most of what I did was to share an hour or so a week with them giving them a chance to practice their English and a chance to ask questions about the sometimes baffling society they found themselves in.  As is so often the case, I got a lot more than I gave.  And Peggy created this opportunity.

On a smaller scale, Peggy created the opportunity for deeper friendships within our chavurah.  She coordinated our annual trips to the Mendocino coast town of Sea Ranch where she would find houses for us to rent.  We would spend a few days together each year, walking along the coast, eating, shmoozing, and relaxing.  It was no small feat to make all the arrangements, but she did it cheerfully. 

Peggy made the world a better place in so many ways, not least by her example of how to live a useful life, a life of service.  My life has been so enriched by being part of our remarkable chavurah. My friendship with each member has changed me in some way, as friendships do.  Peggy taught me to be kinder, to pay more attention to others, to think about creating opportunities for service.  I am glad to know that she is free of pain at last.  And I am so grateful for the years, the holidays, the meals, the beach walks, the games of mah jongg, the shabbat services, the havdalahs, the book club meetings, all we shared.  I am missing all of our dear chavurah, sad to be so far away as we face this loss.