Esther Axelrod (Pearl)
sister of Irving
grandmother of Matt Alpert and Melinda Tenenzapf
kin of Dutchess
poet, philosopher, reader, comic, pianist, singer, crocheter, swimmer, socializer, cultural Jew, lover and worshipper of nature, planter, typist, public servant, politico, psychologist, city dweller, scrabble and card player; soldier of life—and chocoholic
Esther Axelrod (née Pearl) passed on one year ago: exactly mid-day, August 15, 2015 (Brighton/Boston, MA). The unveiling of her headstone inscription will be this fall.
She passed on somewhat peacefully and somewhat painfully at the home of her daughter, surrounded by family. Loving to and beloved by all of them, she is survived by her daughter, Barbara Alpert, and son-in-law Monte Alpert (Brighton), son-in-law Ira Tenenzapf (Brooklyn), grandchildren Matthew Alpert (Brighton) and Melinda Tenenzapf (Brooklyn), and nephew Arthur Pearl (San Diego, CA).
She was buried at 2:30 pm, August 18, 2015 at Wellwood Cemetery, Farmingdale, Long Island, NY next to her husband of 26 years, Isaac Axelrod (55), and near her daughter Amy Tenenzapf (39). She passed on after kidney failure following four years in nursing home post-aneurism resulting in aphasia and wheelchair use due to loss of right-side mobility.
She was born July 28, 1918 (on the Lower East Side), moving to Brooklyn (Avenue X) in her early childhood, graduating Madison High School, and residing at 1641 Ocean Avenue (between Avenues K and L) for nearly 70 years. She was a devoted and caring sister, wife, mother, aunt and grandmother. She was many things: poet, philosopher, reader, comic, pianist, singer, crocheter, swimmer, socializer, cultural Jew, lover and worshipper of nature, planter, typist, public servant, politico, psychologist, city dweller, scrabble and card player; soldier of life—and chocoholic.
In her early 50s, she returned to the work world as a senior clerk at a Livingston welfare office. She later became an active beach club member (at Brighton, until its closing, and then at Seagate). Moreover, she was the longest-standing member (for 27.5 years) at the Council Center of Brooklyn, a recurrent performer at events, and a leader across several groups including the adjudication committee. She loved learning and conversing on: science, medicine, politics, psychology, culture, history, art, philosophy; she embraced growth, uncertainty and mystery. She survived the early death of her husband Isaac, 54, and the tragic accidental death of her daughter Amy, 39. She loved to laugh.
She was astoundingly strong, independent and self-sufficient. She was sought out for her well-reasoned opinions and advice; weeks before her stroke, her coherent and nontrivial comments after the resignation of U.S. Congressman Anthony Wiener at her senior center were aired on the evening news. She was appreciated for the help she provided to her fellows, and this continued even at the nursing home despite her limited speech.
She accepted and toughed out pain, and was very aware of her body, movements and limits; she lived alone up until her stroke, using no senior services. She insisted on sacrificing her own comfort to save money for her family, generously supporting them. Unfortunately, as much as the Center gave her, it did not prepare her with even the most basic estate planning (establishing proper Power of Attorney, writing a legally binding will), much less Medicaid protocol, though the Center did provide countless opportunities to act in plays about fictional greedy relatives.
To those who annoyed her, she reminded them: hock mir nicht kein chinik. To those who offended her, she advised them, at least behind their backs: gai kakhen afenyam.
She loved nature, viewing it as sacred and a source of purpose—attuned to its rhythms, lessons, and messages; she believed in love and memory as eternal. As she said, the latter among her last words: “Love is all that matters; see ya later, baby—that's life.”
As a favorite philosopher of hers, Baruch Spinoza wrote, “The mind of God is all the mentality that is scattered over space and time, the diffused consciousness that animates the world.” Grandma, Mom, Esther—you are missed, but you are remembered and you carry on in your path and in our lives.