Corinne Ellen (Kahn) Reif|
April 21, 1921-May 7, 2010

May 13, 2010

Some of you know that Corinne, my mother, passed away of leukemia at the age of 89 last Friday afternoon. She remained active, although it grew more and more difficult, until three days before breathing her last, on the sheer strength of her love for family and friends. Her ordeal was substantially mitigated by skillful, compassionate hospice nurses, as well as a session she had with an extraordinary rabbi, Susan Talve of Central Reform Congregation in St. Louis.

I feel that besides being "mom", Corinne Reif was a person who grew significantly over the years I knew her. I would like to share the eulogies I and Rabbi James Bennett gave for her at Shaare Emeth Temple in suburban St. Louis on Tuesday, May 11, 2010
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EULOGY GIVEN BY MAX REIF

Dearest Mother,

A lot of people who love you are gathered here to pay tribute to the life you’ve just completed. I can attest to the arc of that life, at least its last sixty years or so. Of your earlier life in Pennsylvania and New York City, we have only fragments. Like Scarlett O’Hara, you grew up in a prosperous family that lost its fortune. Yours owned a large scrap yard, gone in the Great Depression. In college at Penn State, you famously joined a crowd of panicking students running blindly out of the dorms upon hearing Orson Welles’ “War of the Worlds”, believing Earth really had been attacked by aliens. In New York, working for the Army just after World WAR II, you met Dad when a mutual friend enlisted him to help you buy something at the PX .

When my actual recall kicks in, we’d moved to St. Louis because Dad couldn’t find a job in New York. You were a young housewife in a strange new city…more or less the Wild West to you, most likely.

Ah, Memories! Our apartment on Lindell and Vandeventer…the birth of Fred, the bald little baby I got to hold…the nanny who had to be fired because she was refilling our paregoric prescription and quaffing whole bottles…your rushing me to the hospital, probably saving my life when my throat started bleeding as I played in my sandbox shortly after my tonsillectomy…and the most notorious incident, the day you walked into the Burger Bar across the alley with my toy machine gun under your arm—and the cashier started taking out all his money to give you!

When I was five and Fred was two, we moved to the big house on Waterman and Williams in U. City. Mom, you made a noble effort, along with Millie Mellman and Denny Minkoff, as probably three of the least wilderness-savvy den mothers in the history of the Cub Scouts. You dutifully, and even enthusiastically at times, bowled, golfed, and played tennis with us…you drove to Florida with us, before Interstate highways, through the back woods of the South, aghast one morning to find a hair in your grits somewhere in rural Mississippi.

But a caution: as far as any glowing, romanticized versions you might ever hear of our family’s early years, Fred has aptly quoted Bill Cosby: “These are not the same people that raised me!”

***

But then, when Fred and I were around 8 and 11, you got your first job, as a part-time assistant at Washington U’s art library. I loved to go with you to the quiet, tree-shaded campus on Saturday mornings, where in picture books you would show me the difference between a Renoir and a Matisse.

After only a year or so, a lady named Ms. Meier hired you away to the Clayton Public Library, in the same building as the Fire Station. You became Ms. Meier’s protégé, and upon her retirement some years later, Head Librarian. And for the next couple decades, you became practically a local celebrity, to the degree that even when you and Dad were in Chicago once, he heard someone in a passing crowd shout, “Hey, there’s the Clayton Library lady!” You adroitly handled staff morale and scheduling. It’s a telling tribute that several of them, friends for nearly a half century, are here today. The library…I may exaggerate slightly…became virtually your “salon” until you retired in 1989.

***

A few years back, I had a dream that you lived in an elegant, old high-rise, on top of a steep, rugged hill, overlooking a great city. Not only did you have a lovely home there, with a panoramic view—you also owned and ran a little boutique on the ground floor.

To me, that dream itself was a tribute to your life—to how you went out into the world and created your own identity, growing steadily in confidence, /competence…and magnanimity.

Hand in hand with these accomplishments has been your “other career”, your avocation as a decorator, a beautifier—an artist! Your sister-in-law Irene and your niece Geri each told me this week something I’d never heard before—that my Grandma, Jenny Reif used to say, “If you give Corinne a toothpick and a glass of water, she’ll make a beautiful table setting!” Indeed, from the Frank Lloyd Wright drapes, black marble fireplace, and gold carpeting in our Waterman living room, to your Gatesworth apartment’s large Indonesian figurines standing next to antique American furniture, and a gorgeous, burning-gold rug from the Middle East, your flair has been evident.
***
And so, Mother—Corinne—we salute a life in which you not only lived and thrived, but grew. “Allergic to change” as you frequently told us all you were, you coped with your allergy…and changed, again and again.

Why, you even witnessed a “miracle”, this past week! At least that’s what you called it, as you proudly told your nurses, “I never thought I’d see my two sons changing my bed sheets together, but there it was!”

Mom, your your sons and daughters-in-law, your 6 grandchildren and six great-grandchildren, your brother, nieces, nephews, and lately my wife’s mom’s whole family in Long Beach, California, where you flew every recent Thanksgiving to join us; and the many dear friends who have surrounded you in recent years…among them Honore’, Jane, Millie, Phyllis, Rae Elizabeth, Francis…and let us not forget your “Best Son,” Greg…can all attest, you have been a beloved companion, and will be sorely missed.

And even though you were a worrier to the end—that did not keep you from being a warrior, as well. We salute the life you lived, dear Corinne; and the life you continue to live, in our hearts!

 

EULOGY GIVEN BY RABBI JAMES BENNETT
OF TEMPLE SHAARE EMETH

The founder of the Chasidic movement, the Baal Shem Tov, once taught that there are three ways to mourn: with tears, with silence and with song.

And when we mourn someone truly beloved we experience all three ways of mourning: first we are blinded with tears, then, as our grief settles, we sink into silence, ultimately we are able mark the memories of our hearts with song.

Today, with soft smiles on our faces and songs of praise on our lips we celebrate the shining memory that Corrine left us.

Corrine was a class act for all of her 89 years – a remarkable, unforgettable kind of woman who left her imprint on everyone she touched and will never be forgotten.  She was a devoted daughter and sister, a loving wife and mother, a proud and joyously loving grandmother and great-grandmother, and a wonderful friend and relative to so many.  We are all here today because we loved her so dearly, and we miss her already.  And so we have come here to tell her story and to begin to remember her with love.

How fitting, then, for us to begin remembering Corinne through the eyes of her first son, her Maxwell who will share his memories and thoughts:

******(here is where Max's eulogy was delivered, sandwiched in the rabbi's) ******

What a beautiful and sweet tribute to Corrine!  These thoughts and memories open a floodgate of others as well.  Corinne’s 54 year love affair and marriage to her Irwin, of blessed memory was an inspiration.  Rabbi Stiffman, who so regrets that he is out of the country and unable to be here today, spoke so beautifully at Irwin’s funeral 9 years ago, saying,

“Corinne. . . shared 54 wonderful years of marriage with her Irwin, as his partner in life, the first one to hear his jokes and stories, and the woman who made his life fulfilled. When he brought her home to St. Louis, she quickly became such a special part of the family and the community. He loved her deeply, and always depended on her for so much. Corrine made such a wonderful home with Irwin, shared so beautifully in raising their boys, and became the center of a large and loving family.”

Rabbi Stiffman told me that he “loved the song and laughter in Corinne and Irwin’s home and marriage.”  Rabbi Stiffman continued: “Corinne was Irwin’s "straight man" and his biggest fan. They did so much together, and she was always there for him. She was a pillar of strength in difficult times. Corinne also told me how the love of her family has sustained her in the years since Irv died. They have been so wonderful to her, as she was to them. Corinne had a super memory, a wonderful intellect, and a special warmth. I know that we all shall miss her.”

Corrine was a good sister to Harriet, of blessed memory, and to Isaac, a wonderful wife to her Irwin, and mother to Maxwell and Fred, and was always so kind to Barbara and to Helene and Ann, and she truly flourished as a grandmother to Amy, Melissa, Alison, Alex, Jessica of blessed memory and Victor, as well as to Matt, Tim, and Justin.  Each of the grandchildren has special memories of your Grandma - how she always managed to find the fun things for you to do with her, of trips to the library, and how she would take you to ride the city bus.  You all smiled and laughed when you remembered sleepovers at her house, with her special French toast or waffles in the morning, or the wonderful adventures at the Sheraton Westport.  You each attributed your love of books to her, how she taught you to love reading and to love books, and always gave you special autographed copies of the newest books.  You were proud of her and how everyone knew her wherever she went, and how she always made everything the very best – the exquisite arrangements she would make, how everything looked beautiful.  She took you to the Muny and the Fox theater, and to the Nutcracker.  She was always current and up-to-date on everything, except computers, of course!  She loved taking you on that cruise, or going out with you to the best, coolest restaurants and bars.  You had the coolest Grandma around!  And oh, how she loved to have her family together, ordering carryout dinners and making it look so beautiful.  Those family dinners were the center of her life. 

And Corinne was so proud of her 6 great-grandchildren, Emily, Hannah, Caroline, Tess, Gwen, and Eli.  She loved those kids, and loved when they were around her.  She looked forward to their visits, and loved to play with them.  Those moments were so special to her, and will be the basis of stories that you will each tell the kids of her special legacy in their lives.

And Corinne loved her extended family as well.  She loved her visits to California for Thanksgiving each year, and the relationship she developed with Barbara’s mother’s family, who all loved her as well.  She cherished her relationship with Irene and Shirley, and was grateful for your love for her.  Irene, she loved all the times you spent together, making you stay out late at night after you went somewhere together.  She loved her 89th birthday party, and what a special memory it will be for years to come.  She was touched by your song for her that you wrote, Irene, singing of her love for movies and sliders, how her purses were small but her heart was big, and how she was always young at heart!

Corinne didn’t want to grow old – she continued to exercise at the Gatesworth, and to meet for her monthly lunches with her library friends.  She was always active, playing golf, tennis, duplicate bridge, whatever would keep her active with others and sharp and happy.  She was an inspiration to the very end.  May her memory be a blessing….may we think of her with a smile on her face, and may she always be to each of us just what she was, in the words of her favorite song:  Unforgettable.

(song, sung by Nat and Natalie Cole, played over PA system)

 

GOD BLESS YOU, CORINNE!

WE LOVE YOU!

GO TOWARD THE LIGHT!