The Mensch

Mensch: A decent, upright person. In vernalacular, a truly good person.

Do you know that person? Every family should have at least one.

During the second week of October, 1971, I sat in the lobby of the Panorama City Kaiser Permanente hospital while my family went upstairs to say goodbye to my grandpa. I wasn't allowed upstairs. I remember the loneliness of sitting downstairs. Waiting for someone to keep me company.  Not being allowed to take part in the family togetherness.

My cousin Leonard came and picked me up. I don't recall a lot of the details,  but I remember that he took me home with him. He tucked me into bed that night along with his own daughter who was my age.  He took us to a baseball game,  the Dodgers vs. the Astros. Of course, I was still sad, but I felt so much less alone.

Years later when my own dad was in that same hospital, I flew down to southern California. I was plenty old enough to rent a car and get myself to the hospital,  but Leonard insisted upon picking me up.

That's the kind of person Leonard is: a mensch.

I wonder sometimes how Leonard came to be the person we thought to call when we needed someone there. But he is the one who has been called first by several different cousins when there's been need to rally the family. As the executive director of a very large organization, he certainly didn't have the type of job that made it easy to get away, yet he managed. 

When my dad passed away, Leonard broke away from an important business meeting to take my call, and he and his wife made the three-hour drive to be with my mom. He sat with her until I could get there,  only to turn right around and make a late-night return trip in order to be back at work the next morning.

It's not always the bad stuff. My mom's 80th birthday? He was there. My film project being screened at a film festival? He was there. 

I'm grateful that our family has this man, this mensch, to show us what being decent and upright is all about.