Twenty Twenty Twenty Four Hours to go...I wanna be sedated

Technically, we're 26 hours before our flight is scheduled to depart.  However, the latter part of the lyric is valid.  But most of you knew that, already.

Before we depart, it occurs to me to share with you a little about Lillian's namesake - Lillian Friedman Epstein, better known by her grandchildren as Amma.

The daughter of Max and Genevieve (Jennie) Diftler Friedman was born in 1920 in Knoxville, Tennessee and she maintained her East Tennessee accent her entire life.  You haven't truly lived until you've heard Yiddish words spoken with a drawl.  The word "schmuck" became a two-syllable word coming from her - which it frequently did.

Lillian was frequently described with words like "character" and "pistol," to say nothing of "short," which she was.  As a young woman, she was a violinist.   She married Joe Epstein and gave birth to a son, Norman.  Joe was drafted into the Army during World War 2 (one of the first married fathers to be drafted) and Lillian had to raise her baby alone - albeit surrounded by her family.

When a business opportunity lured the family to New Orleans, Lillian, Joe and their now two children (my mother Judith came along after the war) made a new life for themselves in a new place.  And New Orleans became home.  Lillian was a gracious hostess and made friends quickly.  Soon, there were weekly card games and regular nights out.  A stylish dresser, she was well known to many of the women's clothiers in town.  And on one infamous trip to Europe taken with a friend, the two stole the all the shoes left outside hotel rooms to be polished late one night.  I never asked if they were returned.  She was keenly attuned to politics and was never shy with her opinions (hence the frequent use of the word schmuck).

I was the first grandchild.  As a toddler, the closest I could come to repeating "Grandma" was Amma and the name stuck for me, my sister and cousin Rachel.   And since I heard everyone else calling my grandfather, Joe, I did as well and the others followed.  Amma and Joe.  Their home was only about three miles from ours and it was fairly common when I walked in the door after school to see Amma and my mother sitting together at the kitchen table with other neighbors or friends. (along with a bottle of wine. Or two).   And a little while later, Joe's car would head up the driveway.  They were constant presences in our lives.

Weekends, we were often at their house.  They had a swimming pool and I can still hear Amma's shrill entreaties to DRY OFF BEFORE COMING IN THIS HOUSE.  Inevitably the TV was tuned to a sporting event and as the dutiful wife, she made sure the grandchildren waited for a break in the game before walking by.

One of my favorite memories of my grandmother is from my teen years.  My grandparents went out of town and I threw a pool party.  Upon their return, the busybody next door neighbor tried to bust me.  Amma's response? "Well good.  Why not have a party?"  And that sums her up.  She was fun loving and loved her family above all.  Nothing unique about that, but unique she was.

She loved the fact that I went into politics, as her beloved father Max was well known as a City Councilman and state Democratic Party leader.  She stayed sharp until her death and I would often call her on my commute home and talk about the Clintons and their enemies. She hated Republicans.  When I went to the voting booth in 1980 with my mother, we agreed that she would vote for Reagan and that Amma could NEVER know.  I was certain no one could hate someone as much as my grandmother hated Newt Gingrich.  But then George W. Bush came along.

And thankfully she lived long enough to meet Nina, attend our wedding and most importantly, meet her great grandson Max. We brought him to New Orleans when he was six months old.  On the day of our departure, she arrived with a cute outfit for him and told us about how she wanted him to have something special from her now that she had seen him in person.

I am so proud that a piece of her will live on through this new great granddaughter.  And the word schmuck coming from her mouth will be funny for different reasons - but funny nonetheless.