Rabbi Bruce Barton tells a tale of two seas in the Land of Israel. One is fresh, and fish are in it. Splashes of green adorn its banks. Trees spread their branches over it, and stretch out their thirsty roots to sip of its healing waters. Along its shore children play. The River Jordan makes this sea with sparkling water from the hills. So it laughs in the sunshine. And people build their homes near it, and birds their nests; and every kind of life is happier because it is here.

 

The River Jordan flows on south into another sea. Here there is no splash of fish, no fluttering leaf, no song of birds, no children=s laughter. The air hangs heavy above its waters and neither people nor animals will drink here.

 

What makes this mighty difference in theses seas? Not the River Jordan. It empties the same good water into both. Not the soil in which they lie; not the country round about.

 

This is the difference:

 

The Sea of Galilee receives but does not keep the Jordan. For every drop that flows into it another drop flows out. The giving and receiving go on in equal measure.

 

The other sea is shrewder, hoarding its income jealously. It will not be tempted into any generous impulse. Every drop ti gets, it keeps.

 

The Sea of Galilee gives and lives.

 

The other sea can not sustain life. It is named the Dead Sea.

 

There are two seas in the Land of Israel.

 

There are two kinds of people in the world.

 

 

We gather this morning, in this holy place which she so loved, to mourn and to remember our good friend Helen Cohen, who left this world at the age of 72 after a long, brave and courageous battle with cancer.

 

Helen was like the Sea of Galilee in her cherished Land of Israel. She drank deeply of the waters of life and savored every drop, before distributing them with generosity and love to everyone whose lives she touched.

 

Before she died I asked Helen what her greatest accomplishment in life was. No one will be surprised to learn that Helen's answer was a simple one: her family.

 

Helen was born in San Diego and was a devoted daughter to her parents, and loyal sister to Danny. The Orlanskys moved to San Diego in the twenties, and settled here at a time when all of the members of the nascent Jewish community knew one another.

 

Danny told me his parents had to work long and hard days and hours to support their children, and that he and Helen learned to be independent and self sufficient from an early age. But their parents' goodness, caring and love made up for the hours that they had to be on their own. The two of them had wonderful childhoods, filled with family, celebration and friends.

 

Helen's love of Judaism was with her from childhood. She wanted to go to Cheder and to practice what she had learned. She studied piano, and continued to play throughout her life, and in everything she did, she exhibited her special combination of energy, athleticism and talent.

 

She was physically fit her entire life. She had a special fondness for tennis, and up until the time she became ill, she could be counted upon to take her five mile walks around Lake Murray with Arlene. She would wake up early in the morning raring to go, and if, God forbid, Arlene was a couple of minutes late that didn't faze Helen - she simply took off without her! Anyone who walked with Helen also knew that she did not believe in leisurely strolls. You practically had to run to keep up with her speed walks!

 

Helen would have been content to live her entire life in San Diego, close to her parents and family. But a young dapper resident of Santa Rosa thwarted her plans.

 

Helen had gone up north to visit some relatives, and Hal's uncle Julius tried to fix them up on a blind date. Now up to then Uncle Julius had not been a particularly good shadchan, and let's just say that Hal had not been particularly impressed by the young ladies he had recommend. So Hal turned him down. But then Hal's grandfather called and turned up the heat. "I think this is the one for you," he said.

 

So Hal agreed to meet the young lady from San Diego who was vacationing in San Francisco, but he wouldn't go up there. She would have to come to Santa Rosa!

 

As soon as he met Helen, Hal knew his bachelor days were over. After two and one-half days of dating, and only nine hours of being together, Hal proposed and Helen accepted.

 

They returned home. Her mother rose in her chair to greet them and asked, "Where have you been?" "We're engaged," Helen answered.  She promptly sat down!

Helen and Hal shared 49 years of marriage. They were not only husband and wife, they were soul mates and each other's best friend. They were like two halves of the same person, and I often felt that when I spoke to one I knew what the other was thinking.

 

They did everything together. They shared the same values and ethics, were devoted not only to their own parents but to their in-laws as well, to their children, grandchildren and great-grandson, and all of the members of their far reaching and expansive family.

 

There was nothing one would not do for the other. Each was always first in the other's life.

 

Here is but one of many stories which speaks of the depths of their commitment and love for each other:

 

While Helen's love of Hal helped compensate for having to move away from her own family, she always regretted being so far away. So one day, after 23 year years of living in Santa Rosa, Hal decided it was time to go. Without telling Helen, he closed all of his business dealings, came home, took two suitcases out of the garage, went inside and began packing. When Helen saw him she asked what was going on. He told her they were moving to San Diego. She promptly grabbed the suitcase, emptied it and took it back out to the garage. When she returned, Hal was busily packing the other one. When she finally realized he was serious, she was overjoyed.

 

Hal and Helen were not only inseparable during the good times, but during the difficult times as well. During her illness, hospitalizations and home care, he was at her side all the time. He urged her on, and encouraged her to live her life for as long as she could with fullness and meaning. This love did not fade for one minute, even during this last week. You could see it in their eyes when they spoke to each other, held hands and kissed. "You light up my life," she sang to him from her hospital bed. And he lit up hers.

 

Helen's children, Jack and Randi, were the jewels of her life. Helen wanted not only the best for her children, but for them to be the best at whatever they did. She constantly worried about them and tired to protect them from the harshness and difficulties of life. She was also a tough and demanding mother who wanted her children to excel. More importantly, she also wanted them to be committed Jews, and caring and loving human beings.

 

Randi told me that her mother loved life, valued every opportunity which God granted her, and reveled in the simple and every day things. She never complained about household chores, or cleaning and cooking. No task was beneath her. She threw herself into every small task with her customary enthusiasm and zest.

When she was younger she had worked for her parents in their store, but once she was married she devoted herself to her husband and children, and when they married she expanded her love to Jack's wife, Francis, Randi's husband, Charles, her grandchildren: Michael, Jordan, Ari, Staci and Andy, and Amy, and the latest addition, her great-grandson Blake.

 

Hal might have been the boss at work, but everyone knew that Helen was the boss at home. She was the matriarch of her family. She was the back bone who not only kept things running, but who also infused all of those she loved with her great enthusiasm for life, high expectations of themselves and of others, charitable soul and nobility of character. She saw no room for laziness, and taught those around her that one's life is what one makes of it.

 

Helen always wanted everyone she loved to live up to their potentials and to live in ways which brought honor to God, themselves and others. Even when her children were adults with spouses and families of their own, Helen would still make sure that said hello and goodbye, and minded their "p's and q's."

 

No one in her family minded this. They loved Helen's not-so-subtle reminders because they knew that she could bring out the best in them, and that her love for them was endless and unconditional.

 

One of the beautiful things Helen taught her family, never to hesitate to tell those who are close to you how much you love them.

 

I would like to share with you a letter which Randi wrote her mother shortly before she died, a letter which Helen treasured and kept by her side until the end:

 

Dear Mom,

 

As I lay awake at night reflecting over the past years I often wonder if I have shared my innermost thoughts with you, my dear mother, my wonderful friend.

 

Did I tell you how many lives you have touched, inspiring and uplifting those who are fortunate to be part of your life? Did I tell you I appreciate the little everyday things you do, the goodness in your heart, the magic glow in your eyes, your faith in God and Judaism? Did I tell you I admire your vision and courage to create a close family filled with love and devotion? Did I thank you for having shown me the most beautiful path of life, leading me through avenues of gratefulness, teaching me to reach out and be kind to others? Did I tell you how much I love you?

 

Through the years we have matured in our relationship, learning, sharing, growing and loving. At times I may have had trouble accepting the lessons you were trying to teach. I was young, you were sharing your wealth of knowledge of life's many experiences, always trying to protect me from harm, through this process of our mother/daughter love, we have grown closer sharing new found feelings of respect, admiration and love.

 

Did I tell you how you have taught me the meaning of courage? When someone else would dare not to go forward, you pursued the future with strength, perseverance and dignity. You opened up the way for all of us to be strong. Because of you, I believe in miracles.

 

Did I thank you for giving me the essential family ingredients, strength, encouragement, honesty, compassion and forever present love, enabling in me a feeling of contentment and happiness inside my heart? Did I tell you how truly blessed I am to have you as my mom? You have empowered me to become who I am today.

 

 You often said to me "Randi, I don't know what I would do without you", and I always answered, "You'll never have to know. I will be by your side giving back to you all the love and devotion you have given me. I promise to follow all of your examples, living my life with the wisdom you have so graciously bestowed upon me. You will always be with me in my heart. I will never be alone.

 

We have developed our own silent communication, the touch of a hand, a gentle smile, that special look. To know you is to love you. The outpouring of love, affection and concern from all your family and friends is a grand tribute to you. Helen Cohen, our world is a better place because of you. I am honored and blessed to be your daughter, thank you for being my beautiful mother, I love you with all my heart.

 

Did I tell you, you are my hero?!

 

 

 

Jack also told me of his love for his mother, and of how she encouraged him and worried about him. Jack is not a man of many words, but his affection for
 his mother, his constant visits to her and the love and pain in his eyes reflect the beauty of their relationship and the greatness of his loss. Jack describe Helen as someone to whom everyone looked up. She was a "life-force"

 

Helen was extremely close to Charles, whom she considered as her own son. They spent many hours speaking together, and Helen was extremely moved the morning that Charles came to visit her in the hospital early in the morning, and Rabbi (Yonah) Fradkin helped him put on tefillin so that they could pray together for Helen.

 

Helen loved all of her grandchildren. Michael, Jordan, Ari, Staci and Amy were constant sources of pleasure to her. She reveled in their lives and in their accomplishments.

 

Hal and Helen believed that when good times warranted celebrating, the celebrations should always be family celebrations. There were so many wonderful times the Cohens and Waxes had that they would be impossible to recount here. There were many family trips -  to the World's Fair, to Europe and to Israel, family cruises and family parties. One of Helen's last trips was a family trip to Las Vegas, so she could be present at the opening of the new Waxi facility. And Hal and Helen made a point of taking each of their grandchildren to Israel as a Bar or Bat Mitzvah gift.

 

I was privileged to be on two of these trips. Helen was a dynamo. She was always up early in the morning, the first on the bus and one of the last to go to bed at night. She loved every minute.

 

Here's another story which reflects Helen's enthusiasm, fortitude and chutzpah:

 

Helen stopped in London when she came back from Israel with Staci and Michael. The Hard Rock Café had just opened and her grandchildren wanted to visit. The line was exceptionally long, so Helen marched up to the front and said, "You don't mind if an old lady and her  grandchildren cut in front of you, do you?" Old lady, indeed!

 

Amy, whom Helen called  mameleh." was very close to her grandmother, and was proud that her grandparents followed her accomplishments on the tennis circuit. Shortly after Helen was diagnosed with cancer, Amy devoted an English essay to her entitled, "Hope." I would like to share some of it with you.

 

"...Thirteen and a half hours of surgery had been performed...the following day I begged my mother to let me see my grandmother in intensive care...My only words to my grandmother were: "I love you so much Nana, you have to fight, you have to hang in there. Everybody is pulling for you, stay strong." She acknowledged my presence with a squeeze of my hand and nodded her head. I began to have hope as I suddenly realized her determination, feistiness, and will to survive were to her advantage. My grandmother's strength and courage to fight this battle gave her hope. And her hope gave me mine.

"To hope is to wish...My number one wish is she will be able to attend High Holiday services for Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. I know this is her wish also, because Judaism has always played an important role in her life, and her most important hope is for me to follow the Jewish values and customs.

 

"Another wish for me is to watch my grandmother outdoors enjoying each day, whether is watching me play tennis, playing cards with her friends, or sharing a Shabbat dinner with her grandchildren. The simple pleasures of life are her greatest wishes."

 

 

 

One of the happiest moments in recent years for Helen, was the day upon which Staci and Andy were married here in the synagogue. Staci insisted that her grandmother and grandfather walk her down the aisle. Helen was delighted that Staci had found her beshert, and that she had an instant great-grandson, Blake. Helen also lived long enough to learn that Staci and Andy are going to have a baby. Although we are sad that she will not be here to witness its birth, we know that her blessings and love will be with them, and that she will live on in this new life.

 

Michael told me of the times that he and his grandmother spent together, particularly the many outings and trips they shared. Helen always remarked how her Jordan was so handsome. She used to call him "Jordenala" and he called her "Nanela."

 

Ari remembers that once when he was in L.A., the people he was with noticed how classy and elegant his grandmother was. His observation is right on target. Helen was a classy lady. She was always dressed beautifully and there was a wonderful and easy elegance that always surrounded her. Even when she was feeling her worst, she was always immaculately dressed, and her hair and make up were just so, as was the home in which she lived. In fact one of the promises she had Hal make her before she was ready to say good-bye, was that he would continue to take care of her house!

 

Helen and Hal made many friends through their many years of marriage, but none was closer than the friendship between them and Danny and Arlene. It is a remarkable tribute that brother and sister could also be such remarkable friends. Helen was never interested in social climbing, moving in ever expanding social circles or in Akeeping up with the Joneses. As long as she and Hal were with Danny and Arlene, their own children and grandchildren, and nephews and nieces, Gary and Robin, Rob and Lisa and Shelly, and their children, all was right in the world.

 

Helen and Hal forged close and lasting friendships with many good people, with whom they spent many happy occasions and enjoyed many good times. We are not able to mention all of them today, but please know -  from those with whom she traveled, to those with whom she played cards, to those with whom she volunteered - that Helen loved each and every one of you. Her family does want to single out for special acknowledgment their devoted friends of 49 years from Santa Rosa, Phyllis and Bevel Shapiro, who came to say goodbye to Helen before she died.

 

Helen was a natural leader. Everyone looked up to her and counted on her to make the plans. On Hal and Helen's many trips to Palm Springs everyone would wait for her to arrive before any plans were made. They knew that Helen could be counted upon to plan and orchestrate the week's adventures and entertainment. Once Helen arrived the festivities began!

 

Helen was extremely intelligent. She was sharp and analytical. Even though she never worked in business after she married, she knew all about business. At social gatherings you would much more readily find her with groups speaking about business and finance, then groups talking about other kinds of things.

 

Helen was extremely knowledgeable about many things, and avidly followed the political scene. She would discuss and argue politics with anyone - as long as they were Democrats!

 

And everyone in this synagogue and community knows of Helen and Hal's generosity and the countless mitzvot they performed. Actually, I have to correct myself. The truth is that no one really knows how generous the Cohens are because most of their good deed are performed silently, without public acknowledgment or fanfare.

 

Helen and Hal built their synagogue in Santa Rosa, and when they came back to San Diego they were instrumental in building this House of God. They and their family are some of our most generous contributors. In honor of their grandchildren, Helen and Hal donated our Social Hall, which bears their name, the Ark behind me, and the congregation's Tree of Life. They contribute an Israel Scholarship each year, and our annual Carnival fund-raiser was their creation. They chaired it for many years, setting a very high standards for those who followed them to meet. They give to our congregations in many different way, sometimes publicly, but many more times privately and anonymously.

 

Helen and Hal are also generous contributors to the United Jewish Federation, Israel, the Hebrew Home, the J.C.C's, Chabad of San Diego, and scores of other good causes.

 

But when I met with Hal and his family yesterday, they did not want to talk about Helen Cohen as philanthropist. They talked about Helen Cohen as loving mother and humanitarian.

 

Helen had a marvelous personality and lived her life in accordance with deeply cherished values. She was considerate of others, honest and had integrity. She was strong, brave and in control of her life. She had a positive mental attitude, urged those around her to reach for higher and Godly goals in their lives.  She was a highly spiritual human being who cherished Judaism and Jewish tradition.

 

We saw her love of Judaism was through her affection and support of the synagogue, Israel and Jewish causes. But Judaism was also an important part of her private and family life. I will never forget the time I came over to visit shortly before Yom Kippur. Helen was not feeling well, but when I passed the dining room I could see a white cloth on the table and candles. It was set with her finest silver and china in honor of the holiday.  I smiled to myself, in seeing this private affirmation of the Cohen home as a Jewish home.

 

A few days ago Helen and I had some private time together. I asked her if there was anything special she wanted me to share with her family and friends after she died. She told me to tell all of you how important Yiddishkeit was to her, and that she wanted all of you to keep Judaism alive in your hearts and in your homes. She understood what Jewish continuity was about. It wasn't a buzz word for Helen. Jewish continuity was receiving Jewish values from your own parents, and then passing them on to your children, who in turn pass them down to their children, and so on and so forth through the centuries. Helen was blessed with seeing the fruits of her labors during her lifetime in her own family's dedication to the Jewish community.

 

One of the people who took care of Helen described her as a, "classy courageous" lady. Only those closest to Helen really know the trauma and turmoil she has been through during these last few years. Shortly after the cancer was diagnosed, she underwent extensive surgery, surgery from which she ended up spending about seven months in the hospital, surgery from which she almost did not recover. But she did. At one point the doctors told her family that they did not think she would make it through the night. Five days later she was walking around the halls of the hospital.

 

Although the medical treatment was brutal, it bought Helen one and a half more years of life. When Lanie asked her if it was worth it, Helen didn't even take a moment to think about it. There was a simple answer: "Yes."

 

What gave her the strength? Again, there is the same simple answer: her family. This last period of her life was spent doing the things she loved best with the people she loved the most. She rejoiced at Staci's wedding. She attended many parties and celebrations. She traveled. She was here in Shul on Rosh Hashana.