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.