At the end
of a bracha that is said at the synagogue, there is a statement that says,
“Some people may count the days of their lives, but a person of wisdom makes
every day count.” That statement reminds
me of our dear friend Cece Hill.
Cece was the
queen of involvement in Jewish organizational life for as long as I can
remember. She didn’t just take on a job
for a short-term stint of being able to put it on her resume. She took on organizational jobs because she
understood they served the causes in which she believed. Whether she was serving Hadassah as a
regional board member, selling trees for the Jewish National Fund, teaching
Sunday school, publishing the synagogue
bulletin, or taking minutes for the Jewish Federation, Cece’s involvement signaled
her belief that helping build the Jewish community locally and world-wide was a
priority for her. Her volunteer work extended
her days beyond her busy professional life. Her contributions will continue to have
positive effects on future generations near and far.
Cece had a
gift for being able to be optimistic and positive. Can you think of a time when you ever
encountered her that her eyes didn’t sparkle and a smile didn’t cross her
lips? I can’t. She could look at the sunny side of even the
most challenging situations. Even the
night before her severe decline, she was able to talk about the problems she
faced, but was also able to laugh about how good life was with no laundry to
do, dishes to wash, or food to cook because Tabitha took care of all of that! She expressed how much she relished being
connected daily to Gary via the computer and international phone lines. And she told me emphatically that seeing Gary
do what he loved brought her a sense of joy.
Selfishness was not a word in her
vocabulary or part of her character.
In many
ways, selflessness, helped define Cece.
I don’t mean that in a negative way.
I use that word to indicate that she always cared for others even when others
in her same situation would have been merely self-absorbed. Cece and Gary always hosted one of Lincoln’s
premier Passover seder experiences at their home. Perhaps it was a result of
their having been married close to Passover and having spent two nights of
their honeymoon at seders in Las Vegas where Gary helped lead his table through
the Haggadah! At their own home, Gary
created the haggadah they used and Cece spent weeks in advance cooking and
freezing the food that would be served, pulling together their guest list, and
attending to the details of what the two evenings would be like. For many years, she and I would talk about
trying to ensure that members of our congregation would have a place for seder,
comparing lists, trying to figure out who still needed an invitation. This year was different in many ways, because
Cece knew she could not physically manage to prepare a seder and had hoped to
join her brother Morrie and sister-in-law Joyce at their home. When she discovered that the journey to
Kansas City would be too difficult, she hoped to join my household’s gathering.
Even though that was her intention, she did not stop worrying about the guests
who would not be able to join her at her house and worked via phone to make sure
that her usual guests would have a seder to attend. She was the unspoken champion of many who sat
at a seder table this year even without their knowledge of the caring that she
had shown them.
Gary, in
your own way, you shared with me three or four thoughts that will always live
on in my memory as I think about Cece.
First, you described how you were young sweethearts, who met in your
early teens at a United Synagogue Youth function and dated long-distance. That
was probably the best synagogue function either of you ever attended because it
eventually led to what you called 52 almost 53 very good years of marriage and
life together. Second, you recognized
that “Cece’s story” was not the one that
individuals heard about because she was the silent strength behind the great
good that came out of the household and life that you created together. I am
glad you shared her story with us today.
Third, you said her death was sad, but not tragic, because she had
always lived life fully and felt blessed up to her very last moment on this
Earth. And finally, you mentioned that
Cece was the “Wind Beneath Your Wings.”
After our conversation, I went home to see if I could figure out what
you meant by that phrase. I now
understand that she was the hero in your life, that you noticed her with all of
your heart even during the times you were physically separated because she not
only helped you become who you are, but was content with life as it was and
enjoyed watching you shine. I was thinking about the image of wind. You can’t see it, but you can definitely feel
it and see its effects. I do believe
that she was the wind beneath your wings and still is. You will forever feel the effects of her love
for you and your love for her. You will
forever know that she supported you with the strength of character that made
her such a marvelous spouse for so many glorious years. I know your special relationship will not be
broken just because her body can no longer support her true essence. That essence will live on in your memory and
heart and in the memories of all those whose lives she touched with such grace,
compassion, and joy! May her soul be
bound up in the bond of life and may her memory be a blessing to all who had
the privilege to know her.
Rest in
peace, Cecelah! May we learn from you how to make everyday count. AMEN
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