Joke lists and this picture would have made it on!

My Dad, Jerry Michaels, Z'L had a great sense of humor.  He sent out different curated lists of jokes to family and friends.  Some of the grandkids were thrilled when they graduated to the more salacious jokes that Dad sent out.  Arthur's friends were also surprised that he was on the "dirty Joke" list when he shared it out to his friends and family.  

Dad loved sending out these jokes and was even happier when people would respond to his jokes.  He would comment to me that he spent time and effort on these emails and didn't always hear back from some of the recipients.  

Now I am not saying that Dad would have brought the paperclips shown below but I am Not saying he would Not have bought them.  I know that  he would have thought these were hilarious and he would have sent it out on one of his joke lists, or on more than one Joke list.  Thanks to Shira for sending this on to us!

Sheloshim is the Hebrew word for 30 and it is also the first prescribed mourning time and to find out how we did sheloshim and what Wendy and I said please look below.  We continue to miss Dad and as we tell stories and send jokes we keep his memory alive.

 From Sheloshim - Words From Wendy and Vanessa

Wendy: It has been thirty days since our dad and Mom’s husband, Jerrold, Jerry Michaels died. Sheloshim, the Hebrew word for thirty, commemorates the death of a loved one and the first stage of Jewish mourning. During Sheloshim you come across many firsts: the first Shabbat dinner without dad, the first Pesach, Passover seder, and even his birthday. On April 21, 15 days after he died, Jerry would have turned 89 years old.  

Vanessa: This week’s Torah portion Emor from Vayikra, Leviticus, teaches us about the laws regulating our lives and the way sacrifices by the priests should be presented. (21:1-22:33) Special dates within the Jewish calendar are also named and described: the Sabbath, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and the Pilgrimage Festivals of Pesach, Shavuot, and Sukkot. (23:1-44)

Vanessa:  We are in the time of Sefirot HaOmer, the counting of the Omer which is 49 days from Pesach to Shavuot, the giving of the Torah. The period of counting the Omer is a time of semi-mourning, during which traditional Jewish custom forbids haircuts, shaving and parties with dancing. So whether we were in Sheloshim or not, it is still a time of mourning. Tonight will be the 23rd day of counting the Omer, and we add the seven days prior from Dad’s funeral to get thirty for Sheloshim. 

Wendy: The name of this week’s portion, Emor, means speak, and we are here this evening to speak about, mourn, and celebrate our dad.

Wendy: In brief, Dad was born in 1933 on the south side of Chicago. He was confirmed at South Shore Temple, went to the University of Illinois for a BA in Psychology, received his Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, and most importantly met and married our mom, Marian Lee. He then bought a veterinary practice in Crystal Lake, a small town of 5,000 people in Northern Illinois, when they moved there  in 1959.  But these are just the milestones you can see from the outside. 

Vanessa: He was a wonderful father and husband, worked round the clock at his veterinary practice where he began with visiting farms as well as pets. Fox Valley Animal Hospital  is where he worked and mentored generations of Doctors and staff.  Dad also loved reading and learning. He had a great sense of humor, well, most of his jokes were funny. He definitely would be tickled that this week’s Torah portion also covers the laws of profanity. And probably have more than a few questions about that for the Rabbi. 

Wendy: We were lucky to have so much time with Dad. In the last three weeks of his life, the three of us, Mom, Vanessa and I, took care of Jerry. It was a gift of time. We were back together in the house where we grew up, and where Mom and Dad lived for over 55 years.

Vanessa: During Sheloshim as we continue to incorporate grief into our daily lives, there are still memories and sadness for all of us. It is very difficult to do the last load of laundry with Dad’s clothes, to see his swim bag which he used daily until the very end, to view his messy desk filled with files and his notes on Shakespeare, and to wonder what to do with all of his many books and belongings. Dad went swimming every day, and I have just resumed my daily swim at our local JCC. At the pool, I am reminded of Dad.

Wendy: Dad was an avid stock trader and investor. I now have his all-important little black book of stock picks. Interestingly, when I looked at the first page of the book, it said, “Managing Atopica” 10-10-14.  I thought  this must be about some special investment portfolio. But as I read more closely, I realized they were pages of notes from a veterinary seminar he had attended. It was actually about managing different types of canine dermatitis. A perfect example of how we never questioned his very different interests that were a natural part of him.  

Wendy: I’m amazed at how he stayed on top of everything. Just the week before he died, he was watching his treasured Jim Cramer stock market show and putting handwritten entries into his half-filled black book, researching his upcoming Great books session on Hamlet, and busy thinking about his grandkids and great-granddaughter’s legacies. I hope to complete many of the empty pages in his book with my own calculations, stock analysis, and thoughts on the world. 

Vanessa: There is something oddly comforting to doing things by the numbers. Our sadness is not mathematical, it comes in waves and we know it will ebb and flow as time goes by. But we are comforted by the ways Jewish mourning grounds us in time, and allows us to stay tethered to our lives even in death. We are also comforted and grateful for everyone who is with us here tonight. 

Wendy:  Thank you for coming here, especially those who took a plane flight here or

drove down Highway 55.  We also thank our zoomers too. We know today is Mother’s Day and we appreciate you sharing your time with all of us. We welcome all of you to stay and eat after our service and to share more memories about Jerry.  And I really mean eat, we ordered enough to make Jerry proud, he would have wanted to treat all of you to dinner.  Ok Maybe at Steak and Shake.  (Sorry Zoomers, we will treat you when we see you in person.) Thank you everyone for all your love and support over the last few months.  

Sheloshim, 30 days after the Funeral, Dr. Jerrold "Jerry" Michaels Z"L

When you go into see your dentist and he says how are you doing do you respond, Oh my Dad died 30 days ago?  It has been a hard few months?  30 is significant because Sheloshim, the Hebrew word for thirty, commemorates the death of a loved one and the first stage of Jewish mourning.  Dad died right before Pesach, in fact we only did Shiva for 5 days since the next 2 nights were Seder.  Dad is buried outside of Chicago and Shiva was in Crystal Lake, and at my house.  Wendy had Sheloshim in St. Louis and her friends were there to comfort her and our family.  Here are the words that Wendy and I spoke at the funeral.  Our children wrote beautiful pieces to Dad and I will publish them later this week.  I also have our words from Sheloshim.  I KNOW you are not supposed to thank people around anything connected to the funeral.  I can tell you that the outpouring of support from our friends, family and our different communities was overwhelming.  We are so glad to be a part of so many caring and loving communities.  

(NOTE: Wendy and I read this together paragraph by paragraph at the funeral)

If my dad walked into this room right now, I think he would look around and say, why is everyone here?  Why did HE come?  I don’t know everyone here.  This is for me?  Can’t be. We know there would have been some much saltier and humorous exclamations as well.  Many people describe Dad as a real character. He was funny, appreciated a good joke, or a bad one, and no matter the situation, would tell you what was on his mind. 

The Early Years

Jerry Michaels was born in 1933 on the south side of Chicago to Florence and Lee. He was a proud Alum of O’Keefe Grade School and Hyde Park High School. We know some of his school friends are even here with us today. Next on the educational journey was the University of Illinois where he earned a BA in psychology, enjoying philosophy classes on the side, and a BS in veterinary medicine, and finally a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine.  

The highlight of his University of Illinois career, however, was hardly in the classroom. Sophomore year of college, Jerry met our mom, Marian, or Marian Lee as we call her in the family. Dad was on the IC train back to Champaign from Chicago when a friend from Hyde Park High School, and Social Chair of the Ivria House where mom lived, asked him, “Would you go for a drink with Marian?” Little did he know, “one drink” would be multiple beers, all of which Marian downed with ease. My dad couldn't keep up. Dad was a hit at Ivria with his cashmere sweaters, his sharp wit and his piano playing of Blue Moon. It was because of Dad that I learned to play piano. Marian and Jerry continued the relationship. And on January 30, 1955 they were married. The rest as they say is history. 67 years of it. 

Veterinary school and Fox Valley Animal Hospital

After veterinary school Marian and Jerry moved to Homewood, Illinois for a year where he worked as a vet and welcomed their first daughter. Jerry then bought a Crystal Lake veterinary practice in May of 1959. Soon after, he welcomed his, admittedly less loud, second daughter. He was a large and small animal doctor for six years before deciding to move his practice exclusively to small animals, after thoughtful counsel with a client, a cow, who kicked him in the leg and broke his bone. He decided he would be sticking to dogs and cats and other small pets after that. We won’t mention the occasional snake, hamsters or birds.

Who knew that a city boy whose only interaction with animals was the book “Lad A Dog,” by Albert Payson Terhune, and whose only pet was a goldfish, would decide to go to veterinary school. He could never have imagined, growing up on the south shore of Chicago, that he would end up knee deep in muck vaccinating sheep and calving cows.

I don’t think we realized how hard our dad worked until we were able to look back at our childhood as adults. You hear so much today about work life balance. Our dad worked as a single practitioner for the first 25 years of his career. He had weekday, weeknight and weekend office hours. In my fourth grade essay, very clearly titled  “I Want to be a Veterinarian,” I wrote, “Even on his day off he must feed and take out his animals.” A lot of wisdom there from a fourth grader who idolized her dad.  Over the years, he hired more veterinarians, vet techs, and caring office management. He retired only seven years ago at the age of 82.  

Having a family in Crystal Lake

Our family always gets questions about living in Crystal Lake because we were one of just a few Jewish families who lived there. Mom and Dad made sure we attended synagogue in Elgin.  Dad even learned Hebrew to have an aliyah at first Vanessa’s and then Wendy’s Bat Mitzvah Dad jumped in and became a very active participant in community life.  During these years dad also served on the board of the Crystal Lake Chamber of Commerce, was a member of Crystal Lake Kiwanis Club, and was a leading member of the Great Books Club. This group was his great love and he was scheduled to lead a session on Hamlet this Tuesday. 

The Tornado

Almost 57 years ago to the day, the four of us were sitting in our living room when the sky darkened. I called out to dad that our curtains were being sucked out of windows that had been painted shut, he dragged the whole family into the basement. Before we made it to the bottom of the stairs a tornado leveled our home. When Dad finally went back upstairs, all he saw was blue sky. Mom and Dad lost everything, but together, with Jerry’s tenacity, they remained  resilient. 

 

Athlete

Athlete may not be the first word that comes to mind when you think of Jerry Michaels, but Dad swam every day. He loved this routine, and as soon as the health club opened back up after being closed for the pandemic, he was the first one in the pool.

Dad loved to watch our family grow. He would be so proud to know that his five grandchildren are participating in today’s service. Esme, his exuberant great granddaughter,  my granddaughter who he saw even through the pandemic, is nearby, and he loved watching videos and facetiming with her.

Dad was generous not just to the many organizations including political, Jewish, and of course his scholarship fund at the University of Illinois, College of Veterinary Medicine, but to his family.  Education was very important to Dad. He was the first in his family to graduate from college and have an advanced degree. What a legacy of two daughters with advanced degrees and five grandchildren who have graduated college. Dad was also generous in making sure his grandchildren had no college debt. You will hear from them today.  

Our family trips were legendary, at least in our own minds. We laughed, toured and saw so many exciting places that opened our eyes to the world. There were also some less than perfect memories, like when all eleven of us had to put on wet suits for a boating excursion in Hawaii, and when we found ourselves in the midst of a high surf, all Dad could say was “get me out of this thing!” With him, all memories, no matter what, could be retold with humor. 

Over the years when I would visit my parents, I would park myself at their house for the duration.  Last Fall, my Dad, an avid film and TV show connoisseur, asked me if I had seen the series “After Life” by the British comic and actor Ricky Gervais.  I said I hadn’t.  My Dad had already watched two seasons, but liked it so much, wanted to re-watch with me.  We both were spellbound by the clever dialogue, funny jokes, and heartbreaking scenes.  The show is about a husband who loses his wife and has to go on living in the topsy turvy world her absence left for him.  The last season began in January of this year.  When I came up at the beginning of February, my dad said, in a somewhat annoyed tone, I’ve been waiting to start watching so let's go. We watched together with Mom as Ricky Gervais imperfectly navigated grief with humor.  I feel very grateful that we watched to the last episode.  I’m going to take the show, and our time spent watching it together, with me. 

Our mom’s mom, Grandma Hetty, used to tell everyone that you should have Mazel, luck, in life and Mazel in death. Dad was seriously ill for just a short time. We are blessed to have spent the last two weeks with him and mom. On his last morning we were able to read letters to him from all five grandchildren. He laughed, he commented, and of course, he critiqued. We couldn’t be more grateful. What a gift. 

We want to thank our family, friends and all of our communities who have supported, cared and have been there for us.  

This week as you go back to your families and your communities, take a minute to call your parents, read a little Shakespeare and kiss your spouse. 

Think of Dad, we know he would be honored.  Dad, we love you.

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

Than are dreamt of in our philosophy.”

(Hamlet, Act 1 Scene 5)

Jerry's Great Granddaughter, age 2 shoveling in his grave