A legend. That’s what everyone calls her, and I couldn’t agree more…

One week ago we buried my Bubby. Anticipating the day was brutal, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the complete heartbreak I would experience as I sat through the funeral. It was real. It was actually happening, and my heart truly felt like it was ripped into a million little pieces…

Eulogy after eulogy my family explained Bubby’s greatness. Through humor, stories, and heartfelt memories, we displayed why the Hersh family is so special. The closeness we feel as a family was evident to everyone, but none of that would’ve been possible without Bubby; she created the unbreakable bond that we are so lucky to share today. 

Writing my eulogy was hard because I had to take all of my amazing memories and thoughts and condense them into a few short paragraphs. There was so much to say, but I had to be selective and choose bits and pieces… not an easy task. However, writing it was easy in comparison to reading it. I hate public speaking, but this time that wasn’t the problem. I felt as though it was the last time I got to address Bubby. So I spoke to her, pretending like nobody else was in the room, because, quite frankly, the only person in the room that mattered to me in that moment, was Bubby. I did my best to let the words leave my lips, choking back many tears. 

The burial was even harder. We pulled up to the cemetery and my family congregated by our Bubby, mom, and sister. The rabbi had some words that I needed so badly. He said something along the lines of, “Although her physical being will stay here, her spirit and soul will not.” And as I looked over at her beach chair (which she requested to be at her funeral) and felt the warmth of the sun on my forehead, I knew there had to be truth in that statement. Bubby was sitting on the beach, her feet in the sand, comforted by the sun. And I could breathe a little easier knowing that she was in her happy place. 

But, if you know anything about the Hersh family, it’s that we like to entertain and we always make the best out of not-so-great situations. So, the boys decided to hire a guitar player to play some of Bubby’s favorites during the burial. We know she was listening. First, he played “Hallelujah” which was soothing, but then as my family placed soil on her casket, the guitarist began to play “Piano Man”. That moment was so beautiful. I felt the song in my heart as I cried into my dads shoulder. I know for sure that as all of us were singing together, Bubby was chiming in from above… “Sing us a song, you’re the piano man”… she was singing at the top of her lungs as my entire family found comfort in the same melody. She never had a good singing voice, in fact I always made fun of her for it, but I would truly do anything to hear her right about now.

It’s been a week. A really, really hard week. Life doesn’t stop when you’re mourning and it’s been a real challenge to cope with this loss while keeping up with my fast-paced college life. The support of my friends and family has been helping me get by. But even more profound than their words, are the words I have from Bubby when I had her record me a message in hospice (If you read the last post this makes a little more sense).

This is what she said:

“Hello Emily. It’s your Bubby, and I love you and I’m watching over you. I know today’s probably a tough day but it’ll be okay. Just look up at the sky and give a smile. If you see a rainbow, think of me. If you see a butterfly, think of me… I’ll be watching over you and I love you. And I love you for all the joy you’ve brought into my life. You’re gonna be good. You’re gonna be okay. I love you with all my heart, you sweet girl.”

These words mean everything to me. Hearing her voice means everything to me. This message has gotten me through some really hard moments and I will continue to use it to comfort me throughout this healing process. 

Before I conclude, I need to say something to Bubby:

Hey Bubs! Do you remember what you’d say to me every time you’d answer my FaceTime calls from Berlin? Before even saying hi, you’d say “Oh my god, is that really you?!” My smile would widen and I’d say, “Yes, Bubby, it’s me!” So do me a favor… leave me some hints every once in awhile that keep me asking the same question about you… “Is that really her?” Bring the sunshine back and please comfort me with your presence. I miss you more than words express. And I don’t know if you heard, but I learned how to play “Piano Man” on the piano for you. So when I play and sing, please join me, and even though I won’t hear your off-key voice it’ll bring a smile to my face just thinking about it. Sending my love to you up there!

Okay, now back to you guys… as I said, this week has been tough, and I’m sure next week will be too. But I wanted to thank every person who has supported and continues to support my family during this time. The Hersh’s are strong, and although we tend to use humor even in hard times, we are each struggling with this major loss. We really appreciate all of your kind gestures and heart-felt messages. Thank you so much.