THE GIFTS OF GIVING

MRS ABRAMS - A tribute to an extraordinary ordinary New Yorker

A cruel twist of fate brought my mother and Barbara Abrams together in a support group for spouses of brain cancer patients.

Mrs Abrams’ children were adults with their own lives when her husband passed from this devastating illness. My sister and I were an infant and a preschooler when our father was given 6 months to live. Mrs Abrams’ husband spent his rapidly waning retirement years undergoing futile treatment and surgeries before rapidly succumbing to the cancer. My father, a young man in his late 20s, would go on to suffer for many years before he, too, finally passed.

Mrs Abrams served as a rock of normalcy for our family while we endured the twilight zone where my father was no longer himself, but his youthful strong body was still unwilling to give up an impossible fight. She opened up her Park Avenue home to our family while we visited my father in the hospital. She hosted us for vacations at her second home in Connecticut. She took us to see magic shows, the Rockettes, professional mime troupes and other shows on Broadway. 

Was she looking for a distraction from her own loss and sorrow? Was she inspired by her Jewish faith to perform a mitzvot aseh or tzedakah? For whatever reason, Mrs Abrams showed our family great kindness in the years leading to my father’s death, and continuing for many years thereafter. When she learned that I, as an adolescent, had become enamored of Shakespeare, she bought me a beautifully bound and illustrated copy of his complete works – a volume too expensive for our family to afford.

As a child, it was easy to both appreciate her kindness and to take it for granted. As an adult, I came to realize the full magnitude of her generosity. How many people would give a young mother with small children nearly unlimited access to their home(s) – over multiple years?

It is too late for me to thank Barbara Abrams directly. Lives intertwine and then unwind - and while the connection is lost, the indelible mark remains. Instead, I thank her by attempting to share the seed of generosity she planted 50 years ago in my 4-year-old heart. I have opened my own home to other people over the years, including those who needed a place to stay for many months. Each time, I discovered that the blessings I received from my acts of generosity far outweighed any inconvenience or effort on my part.

You see, the greatest lesson I learned from Barbara Abrams – the lesson it is only possible to learn from the act of giving – is that the greatest gifts are bestowed upon the giver.

-In memory of Barbara Abrams