Thank you all for coming. You’re attendance here speaks volumes as to how much of an impact my Grandmother has had on many of us here in this room over the years. The first memory of my Grandmother was as a little boy. As a child I would ring the doorbell and before entering her apartment she would say,

“Hi Brad don’t forget to wipe your shoesies.” Entering the apartment my grandfather in the other room would often times yell,

“Raeeeee who is it.” She would mutter under her breadth her favorite Yiddish words, uhh vaysmer, uyy gutenyou.” It’s your favorite grandson Sam.” Im sure of course my grandmother would say the same thing about Matt, my first cousin but it was still nice to hear.

“Brad would you like something to eat.” I loved my grandmother but her cooking was probably the only thing little to be desired, so more often than not I declined.

“Come into the living room so we can sit down and have a chat,” as my grandmother raised her voice a few decibels, which was rare and said,

“Saaaam lower the TV volume.”

I would follow her into the next room as she would walk ever so slowly placing her hands against the wall in order to help guide her into the living room. As many people are aware my grandmother had retinitis pigmintosa, a rare hereditary disease leading to retinal degeneration. For most people this could be debilitating and cause the average person to spiral into a severe state of depression but not with my grandmother. She would ask me to have a seat on the sofa while seated on her chair next to the phone in case her children, grandchildren or anyone for that matter was trying to reach out to her. You see my grandmother was probably one of the most selfless people I knew. She was more concerned about answering the telephone in case anyone needed her as opposed to taking care of her own needs. This was one of many attributes that made up the core of my grandmothers soul and her compassion, love and generosity knew no bounds. She was loving, considerate, nurturing, supportive, it ran the gamut.

I would call my grandmother and she would be there anytime. Whether it was teaching me how to spell, write or just lending me her ear. She was my Chazal which in Hebrew means, Sage. Although Chazal is not a single person but rather a collective consensus of authoritative opinion for purposes here today I make use of the word when referencing my beautiful grandmother.

Chazal is an acronym of the Hebrew phrase Chachameinu Zichronam Liv'racha, which means "our sages of blessed memory" or "our sages, may their memory be a blessing." For myself my grandmothers memory will always be a blessing and she will be engrained in my memory until the day I die.