Eulogy for Anita
   Home Litrachure Nelgraphix Benjamin

Circa 2001: Anita Lerner was a dear friend. A few years before she died of the "Big C," I thought her invincible and immortal. I wrote this eulogy for her memorial service. Anita, I will always love you. -g

jews say that when someone makes a shiddach, a marriage match, they will go to heaven. by that logic, making an instant family should count double. so, susan gets to go to heaven at least twice, say i, and undoubtedly more for all the other selfless and wonderful things she has done. susan introduced us to anita, who was practically the first person we met when we moved from new york to santa monica 10 years ago – and we became an immediate family. susan knew we were all kindred spirits.

anita was a dyed-in-the-wool venetian. unlike many other venice residents, fortunately, anita managed to avoid also becoming a venutian. she didn't fall for any of the classic california new age mumbo jumbo. rather, anita had her feet planted firmly on mother earth – particularly the new york section of mother earth. and that's one of the many things we love about her. anita had serious new york attitude, tempered by a very big heart and an almost annoying sense of order.

when gayle and i first moved to l.a., neither of us had jobs, but i had a couple of consulting clients left in new york, and was lucky enough to quickly find new ones here in l.a. pretty soon, things were getting out of control in my life – i was traveling 2 weeks out of every month, juggling a lot of stuff, and i realized i needed some help. anita came over to talk about it, explore the possibilities. it was good timing – she was looking to do something new, and fortunately for me, she took pity on me. we talked, decided it could work, and i said "here's my life. you deal with it." she did, and did a damned good job of it.

besides our superb physiques, the only thing arnold schwartznegger and i have in common is that we both can brag that we had anita to manage our lives. anita was friend first, and employee later, and that was a very very good combination. we got along great - we were both belligerent, ornery, opinionated curmudgeons, and happy about it. we yelled at each other a lot, just like my family (and countless other jewish and italian families) do. it was that classic, ethnic, family yelling filled with love. when we finished yelling, we laughed ... a LOT. most arguments are tedious things and heavy, but ours left us feeling somehow lighter, partially because they were more like affectionate, though high volume, sparring.

anita did things for me she never wanted to do, mostly because, as i say, she took pity on me. i literally didn't have to even touch a checkbook for what, 3 years? 3 glorious years. anita didn't love doing my financial stuff, in addition to all the other stuff she did, but she did it for me, and when i tell you it was a lifesaver, I'm not exaggerating. I'd almost like to say she never complained about it, but anita is anita – attitude is everything, and, as a fellow with the same new yorker soul, i wouldn't have had it any other way. i hope she knows how much it meant to me that she went so far above and beyond the call of duty dealing with all my crap.

anita was the very soul of trust. not once did i ever worry about her handling all my stuff – she did all the banking. she managed my calendar, and handled all the other things at which i display an appalling incompetence. she got into all the tiny recesses of my disorganized life and organized the holy shit out of them. there was no area i felt compelled to shield from her. and as an added bonus, she had no problem telling me when i fucked up - believe me, i needed to hear that. she did everything she did for me for as much as i could afford to pay her, which was almost unconscionably little.

underneath the attitude was an unbelievably caring heart. anita clearly worried about me more than i could bring myself to worry about myself, no matter how much i deserved to. sometimes, the cash flow situation started to look alarmingly grim, and anita would fret and hoch me - what are you going to do, how are you going to get through this? and i would look at her and pat her on the shoulder and tell her not to worry, somehow everything would work out. and it always did, but what i managed to worry about instead was the stress it caused for her.

i don't wonder much if i told her enough how important she is to me – i know i didn't. i wish i had, but i think she knows anyway. that is one of her special gifts – she can see into people, and she sure can see into me.

one other thing i want to say about anita is that she was still a kid in her heart, and because of that, she unknowingly helped me come to terms with becoming a parent, something i was long cussedly opposed to. it sounds stupid, but spending time with anita in her dining room, looking with her at all her cool picture books filled with reptiles and insects and animals brought back childhood feelings of wonder i had long forgotten. she helped me remember that life was still chock full of wonders, and that it wouldn't be so bad to see those wonders dawn yet again, through the eyes of my own child. and she was there for us though all the many trials and tribulations that ultimately led to benjamin, and far far beyond.

being, like anita, decidedly non-venutian, my skeptic's heart won't buy the concept of there being a "spirit world," but, in the off-chance there is one, anita, i hope you're happy in it, and i hope you know how much those of us left behind love you and miss you.

Top | Home | Benjamin | Litrachure | Nelgraphix | Linx| Spammers| SpamSubjects | AllThingsNelg

bullet

Last Revised: Thursday, June 26, 2008
©Copyright, Glen Eichenblatt, 2006

This site exists for the sole entertainment of its creator. There is nothing on this site that should be considered to be of any importance or usefulness to anyone. Any similarities of this site to any other damned thing in the entire universe is a total and complete coincidence. Nothing whatsoever on this site should be construed, implied or even necessarily understood.

Hit Counter