My Grandma

My Grandma, Edith Birnholtz, passed away last Sunday. Her funeral was Wednesday, and we were able to be there and be with family for shiva. My grandma led an extraordinary life and died at 94 (and a half, but who's counting!?). She was walking with her friend, Flora and exercising on the elliptical machine, going to holocaust survivor group meet-ups and exercise classes until just a few weeks before she died. She and my grandpa moved up from Florida to Michigan after he had a stroke, in 2018, and she continued to live in a Jewish assisted living facility (but independently, other than dinner), after he passed away. A couple of months ago she started acting a bit differently and saying weird things. She stopped being able to walk as much (or very much at all), had a hard time eating and really doing everything. She had some help at home for a couple of weeks and then went into the hospital when we were in Wales. Scans of her brain showed that she had several masses, and it seemed that they were definitely affecting her. She spent a week in the hospital with very rapid decline. She moved into a hospice facility, and within a couple of days, she stopped responding. Weirdly enough, the last words anyone heard her say were the four questions for the passover seder, when my parents were talking about what they were going to do for the seders (they were supposed to be in London at my passover seder, but of course, they had to cancel).

This time of year was very hard for her. Last year when I was trying to convince her to come to my parents' seder, she was telling me how hard it is and how she just wants to stay home. (She did come). Nazi soldiers came into their house and took them away during passover 1944. She was liberated on 15 April 1945. She landed in the US on 12 April 1947. That's a lot. I think she didn't want to do it again.

Grandma LOVED my babies - and everyone's babies. Here she is with Koby in Dec 2015

Hanukkah 2015

What 85 year old woman is on the floor playing with a baby??

This summer

Grandma with all of the great grand kids

Grandma with all of her kids, their spouses, kids and kids' kids, at Sam's bm

My grandparents had a huge impact on my life and identity. I wrote about it when my grandpa died. Both of my grandparents on my dad's side were holocaust survivors, and it shaped me in some good ways (and some bad). When I was little, they lived nearby, in Southfield, and we went to their house for holidays and shabbat meals with the cousins. My grandma always cooked for everyone. When they moved to Kentucky, we used to go visit them, and it was the most boring time for us kids (we literally used to lock ourselves between the door and the storm door or up in the hot attic with literally nothing to do), but it was great time with them. We heard stories. We ate my grandma's cooking. My favorite foods she made were her kreplach, her stuffed cabbage and her borsht. I always ate everything she made, and I loved it. When they moved to Florida, we used to go visit as a family once a year, and again, it was great time with them, and time that our family loved to hate. We made fun of how they asked us to shower in the clubhouse rather than use their hot water, or how crazy everyone in their complex was about the rules of the pool or tennis courts. But with their ridiculousness, there were still more stories, great food and always new paintings or murals to look at. I walked away with a huge need for a Jewish life, and great responsibility to learn and pass down traditions. Both of my grandparents grew up in religious homes, and it felt so heavy on me to make sure that all isn't lost. I have certainly tried.

My grandma was a difficult person. She was very skeptical of everyone. If someone invited them over, they must have wanted something from them. If something is misplaced, it must have been stolen. She always watched the news (Fox, in recent years, ugh), and I never saw her read a book - or really anything. She managed their finances and made some really good decisions. She managed their house and totally took care of my grandpa - including administering eye drops regularly, I think for years - right up until he passed away. She managed A LOT, and it worked. And whenever we thought it was just too ridiculous, we had to remember where she came from and be amazed that she was the way she was - given all of that.

Grandma was born in Munkach (it was Hungary, then Czechoslovakia, now it's in western Ukraine, called Mukachevo). More about her life is in the awesome eulogy that Rabbi Joey Krakoff gave at her funeral, and also her interviews with the Shoah Foundation below. Key points, however, were that at age 14 she was taken away from her parents and never got to finish growing up or going to school. She survived Auschwitz and other camps, liberated from Bergen Belzen with her sisters - one made it to the end with her. After the war, she moved around a bit with her brother and his wife to figure out where they could live. They tried to return "home," but were surprised that there was absolutely nothing there. They were in different DP (displaced persons) camps for nearly two years and ultimately she took a ship to New York, taking care of her nephew, because her sister-in-law was seasick the whole time. She was a teenager. She moved to Detroit as an orphan child, under 18, and was cared for by a local family. She met my grandpa right after moving to Detroit, married him right away (story below - it's awesome) and my dad was born nine months later, when she was 19. So between 14-19, it all just sucked beyond belief. She lost three siblings, her parents, grandparents, cousins, EVERYONE and her secure childhood. Then she had a baby and had to figure out life in a new country with little support, no money, limited English and nearly no education or skills. So, in short, her ridiculousness was earned, and it's amazing she lived as long as she did and as full a life as she did. Playing tennis for years. Doing everything she could to love and support my grandpa as a window dresser and cantor. Really loving retired life in Florida until that chapter had to end when my grandpa was not well. She was truly a champ. What a life.

Eulogy: Edith Birnholtz; April 17, 2024; CH Chapel (DC); Noon

Rabbi Joseph H. Krakoff (posted with his permission)

Edith was born on August 24, 1929 in Czechoslovakia, the loving daughter of Sander and Fannie, the beloved sister to Gershon, Rifchu, Rose, Layba and Raizel.   Edith fondly recalled her early childhood, picking berries and fruit and enjoying being around all the animals that lived outside her house due to the fact that her father worked with skins.

Edith grew up in a religious home that for her first fourteen years was a very happy one.  Although it was an anomaly for girls to receive a Jewish education, her parents arranged for Edith to meet with a rabbi who would come once a week to teach her Hebrew.

As Edith recounted and was published in ‘Don’t Write Me Off’, everything changed at Passover 1944.  Edith was putting away the dishes in her home outside of Munkacs when the Germans came for her family, entering the house and smelling her mother’s cooking.  

Initially, they forcibly took many of the city’s residents to a brick factory which had become a ghetto.  After a few weeks, the Germans then sent the Jews by cattle trains to Auschwitz.  When they arrived at the camp, Edith was separated from her parents and several of her siblings.  She was able to survive the selection process and wound up in a barracks with her two older sisters Rifchu and Rose.  They did their best to watch over her, pinching Edith’s cheeks to make her look healthier, while giving her their shoes so at only fifteen years old- she would look taller, older and stronger.

Edith’s job was making radio components.  She attributed her survival in part because she was made of hearty stock and had, in her words ‘Czechoslovakian farm boy calves’.    

From Auschwitz Edith was sent with her older sister on a train to Bergen Belson where she remained until being liberated by the English on April 15, 1945.  From Germany Edith went to Budapest where she saw a Russian soldier who looked very familiar to her.  Unbelievably, it was her brother Gershon who came to the rail station everyday having faith he would be successful in locating his sisters when they got off the train.  After miraculously being reunited with Edith and Rifchu, the three went back to Munkacs, finding that while their house had been sold- the housekeeper had kept their belongings. 

It really wasn’t until 1997 when Edith was interviewed by the Shoah Foundation that she began to tell her Holocaust story.  As a result of the family trip to Eastern Europe in the Summer of 2001 Edith began to open up even more.  She found her house- albeit with a different façade as well as her school.  In fact, Edith even connected on that trip with the neighbor who bought all the Jewish houses on the block.  

This man wasn’t even shy about telling Edith that when her family was taken away, knowing they weren’t coming back- he took their house.  He invited the family inside to share wine that he had made as they sat and talked for about half an hour.  

Remarkably, Edith did not express any anger- but as you can imagine, this time of year never ceased being hard for her, being that the Nazis came at the beginning of Pesach.

Feeling that there was nothing left for her in Europe following liberation, Edith wanted to live in America.  She made her way to the US on the Marine Perch, a boat- Edith recalled- badly rocked back and forth in the water due to inclement weather over the course of the twelve days journey.  Edith arrived in New York on April 12, 1947 and after spending a day in New York, she took the train to Michigan with the assistance of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee.  

It was in Detroit with no possessions to speak of, Edith initially went to live with Mrs. Lazar whose family was kind and welcoming.  Edith attended both day school and night school so she could learn to write and speak English, as Yiddish was her primary language.

As the story goes, there was a guy in those evening classes also learning English who was preparing to become an American citizen.   As Edith was happy to share, she sat in front of Joe and he liked playing with her hair.

It was at a student gathering during the Thanksgiving holiday, that the women suddenly came out of the kitchen while the men were standing around- and they asked Joe what he thought of Edith.  When he replied that he thought she was nice, they announced to the larger group: "Everybody get up, drink a ‘l’chaim’ and say 'mazel tov’ to the couple that just got engaged-- Edith and Joe."  

Needless to say, this came as a big surprise to both of them and neither one knew what to say.  So Joe said ‘ok’ as did Edith- and they became the first students in that evening class to get engaged.

Edith and Joe were married only a few months later on March 6, 1948 at a small shul on 12th Street and Joe even took one day off of work for a honeymoon. 

Edith and Joe shared so many special interests throughout the years- going to the theatre and the opera, playing cards and singles tennis often at their club, Hamilton Place in Southfield.  A perfect example of their closeness was that they shared one pair of reading glasses.  And Edith always knew what Joe liked to eat.  So when mealtime came around, Joe would invariably ask: Edith, what do I want to eat?”  When she would tell him, he’d be very grateful.  

Edith sang in the choir with Joe and she especially looked forward to the duets they would perform together.   Whatever it was- Edith never said ‘no’ to him.  Joe always wanted Edith right by his side even if it was only to watch television while holding her hand.  Edith truly did everything for him, often uprooting herself to support Joe however she could.  They were very happy and made a beautiful life together.  And Edith never stopped missing Joe after he died in 2019.

Edith was very proud to be the dear mother and mother-in-law to Sandy (Sue), Marilyn (Mike), Mark (Paula).

Your mom was incredibly generous- if you ever needed anything, you could depend on her.  She never said ‘no’ and was ever dedicated to your happiness.  You could talk to her about anything- she was a good sounding board which was especially helpful when you needed to make a decision.  It was important to your mother that you never let yourself be taken advantage of and to be on alert when you needed to be cynical or skeptical of people.

Her love language was so often expressed through the foods she prepared.  She made the best vaffles in the world- putting orange juice in the batter and anything else that was in the refrigerator for that matter.  And you could contently eat those square vaffles for breakfast, lunch and also for dinner- because they were so good.

Additionally, you loved everything from her kreplach to her borsht and chocolate chip cookies, recognizing that there was one dough for everything from pizza crust to rugalach.  She had the best stocked freezer- filled not only with foods you’d expect- but other items you might not have thought- milk, chewing gum, and cash- actual cold cash!  Your mother also told people she had the best melons that people went crazy over.

In your house, nothing got wasted or thrown out and absolutely everything got repurposed- plastic, styrofoam, coffee cans and Ziploc bags that were washed out.  yahrzeit candles that were then used for drinking glasses and piles of bank slips became scrap paper- for notes of all kinds including those that were inserted into the Kotel.  And any food Edith didn’t like- she would send home with Mike.  

When Edith turned 80, all of the siblings wanted to get her something special so you bought her a Louis Vuitton handbag.  While she did love it, Edith decided to return it because she needed a new refrigerator.  And ever practical- a fridge made more sense than a purse.  

Edith was the loving grandma to Jeremy, Melanie (Matt), Bryan (Mandy), Ashley (Craig), Jordan, Matt and Eric and the late Kenny, of blessed memory, and adoring great-grandmother of Sam, Ellie, Jacob, Sydney, Addy, Harrison and Felix.  When Jeremy was born, Edith was only 44 years old so she wanted to be called grandma instead of bubbie- because being a bubbie felt too old to her at the time.

Edith was so proud of all her grandchildren and was really excited to introduce them to everyone she could.   When you were together for a meal, you’d often be sitting at the table while she’d be standing preparing something delicious to eat.  She loved feeding you- which included ‘all you can eat pizza’ at CiCi’s.  

When you were babies, she looked forward to holding and snuggling you and getting down on the ground with you- which she did with the grandbabies also- so happy that they were getting to know her.  

She liked when you brought friends over to visit and she taught you that it was important not to make the water too hot in the shower because the steam would damage the wallpaper.  You loved taking walks with your grandma, talking about the stock market with her and basking in her giant smile and her big hug with outstretched arms.

While Edith loved everyone with all her heart and soul, it was well-known that Bailey- Edith’s granddog- was her baby and she was always asking about him.  He was her favorite- perhaps in part- because he did not give Edith any trouble.  He just loved to lay on the bed next to her, putting his head on her and kissing her and she would hold him and feed him chicken.  There was a chance he would have been here today because he had hoped to be a paw-bearer.

Edith lived to be active and took wonderful care of herself- she was always moving and swam every day.  Just three months ago, Edith was walking a solid mile every day- often through the halls of Fleischman and Hechtman.  Until two months ago, she was on the recumbent elliptical every day- which she called the ‘epileptical’.  

Starting in her mid-40’s, Edith became a talented tennis player, propelled by her short legs and strong calves she got around the court quickly.  She sliced the ball, was fearless and fierce at the net.  No matter how hard you hit the ball at Edith- she never ducked out of the way.  She took the game very seriously and if Edith was your partner and you missed the ball, she’d ask: why did you spoil it?  One of Edith’s greatest moments on the court was playing in a tournament with Serena Williams at Ballenisles, having a trophy to prove it.

Everyone knew Edith- she was ever popular for giving out Costco nut bars and Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies to everyone that helped her- because food was currency which she believed got her better service.

Although relatively healthy most of her life, whatever health challenges did come Edith’s way, she was able to bounce back from.  Only in the last two months did she really begin slowing down, until experiencing a more steep decline over past four weeks.  And the family is so thankful for the assistance of her wonderful caregivers that were do devoted and helpful.

After not having opened her eyes for days, last Tuesday night Sue and Sandy were discussing Seder plans in front of Edith and she began reciting the four questions, something that was clearly deeply ingrained in her beautiful neshama.  Despite her best efforts, Edith passed from this world to the next 2:15am Sunday morning.  Having entered eternity and now being reunited with the soul of her beloved Joe and dear loved ones who have gone before, we affirm that our beloved Elka bat Sander u’Fayga will rest in peace, a peace she so deserves.  So may it be God’s will.  And let us say: Amen.

The Shoah Foundation

The Shoah Foundation interviewed both of my grandparents. More information and my grandpa's videos here. 

from the collection of the USC Shoah Foundation

from the collection of the USC Shoah Foundation

from the collection of the USC Shoah Foundation

from the collection of the USC Shoah Foundation

Videos © 1994-1996 USC Shoah Foundation

Interviews of Edith Birnholtz, 1996 are from the archive of the USC Shoah Foundation – The Institute for Visual History and Education.  For more information: https://sfi.usc.edu