In Memory of My Beloved Mother
My Mom Just Left the Room
By Rabbi Dr. Miriam Maron
"May her Soul be embraced in the sacred bond of Eternal Life"
My heart is still raw from the death of my incredible mother, Sonia Maron. She was a kind, sweet, loving, gentle soul who has deeply affected and sculpted my very being. She was a close friend, confidant and someone that knew how to love and show it, more than anyone else I know. As a grandmother to my son, Ryan, and my daughter, Sarina, she was loving, caring, and devoted. Her crystal clear green eyes would look deep inside those around her and her intuition sharp and on target.
A better Mother, one could not ask for. She will be forever missed by those lucky enough to have known her. Her gift of being is hard to put into words, but ever present in the deep recesses of my heart and soul, ever-present as well in my music and in my work as a teacher, for not only did she have a beautiful singing voice, but she was also a remarkably patient and skillful teacher and role model.
Mommy, I love you forever and beyond. I was so blessed to be your child, and as you used to tell me over and over again: "We are joined at the hip." I have one foot in this world and one in the next, as you too have one foot in the next world and one here. A love so deep is never separated, not even in death. The physical is just one way we connect, but not the only way. My mom just left the room.
Mommy, I love you forever and beyond! I bless you with the blessing of the prophet Isaiah: May God guide you always; may God take away your thirst in the parched places of your being, and give strength to your bones. May you become like a watered garden, like a spring whose waters do not fail (Isaiah 58:11).
Please read on to help me honor her and to learn more about her intriguing and challenging life. Her life was a blessing to us all.
My dear mother grew up in Minsk, Russia, her teen years abruptly cut short by the eruption of a war that would destroy most of her family and friends, and catapult her into a harrowing struggle to survive. And survive she did, fleeing from village to village with her family, finding work of any kind wherever they found refuge, traversing the unforgiving Ural Mountain ranges to escape the relentless Nazi rampage. In spite of her youth and the terror that plagued her daily, my mom mustered forth a reservoir of courage and fortitude that enabled her to participate proactively in the survival of her parents and siblings during their four-year flight by bike, train and foot. She committed herself to long hours of arduous labor wherever and whenever she could find work that would feed her family and keep their morale up. When the war finally ended, she met my beloved father, Yaakov Maron, of Blessed Memory, who had lost his wife and young children to the Nazi slaughter. My dad had fought valiantly in the underground Polish militia in spite of his having been severely wounded eight times. After escaping death at the hands of the Nazis and subsequently at the hands of the Soviets during their post-war campaign of annihilating officers of the Polish underground army, my father fled with my mom to the Allied Sector of Germany, eventually gaining entry into the United States. They first settled in New York before starting a farm in rural New Jersey.
Working at his side with no less vigor and commitment than she had demonstrated during her years of struggle for survival during the war, my mom helped my dad build a successful farming venture while raising four children, in spite of severely debilitating health issues which beset her from the trauma of the war, and in spite of my father having to work long hours away from home to support us. When he grew very ill toward the last several years of his life, my mom insisted on caring for him personally at home, tending to him day and night, paying little attention to her own deteriorating health and doting instead on her beloved husband till the day he passed. She survived him for five years, during which her own health deteriorated further, requiring tri-weekly dialysis. Yet, through it all, my mother remained a mountain of strength and practical wisdom for her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, holding her pain with a quality of joy and positivity that was contagious as it was inspirational.
On the Holy Shabbat of July 27, 2013, only four days before the anniversary of the passing of my father, my mom left this realm to join her beloved and reunite with her birth family, of which she had been the sole living survivor. The funeral took place with honors on Monday, July 29, at the Congregation Bnai Israel Cemetery in Toms River, New Jersey. She was honored by many as her grandchildren carried her to be buried beside her husband. Among those who came to honor her my was my 95-year-old father-in-law, Rabbi Menashe Zvi Winkler, the last living disciple of the famed Rabbi Israel Meir Kagan, more popularly known as the Chofetz Chaim. Rabbi Winkler surprised all who were gathered when, in spite of his fragility and age, he picked up one of the shovels and participated in the sacred ritual of burial. "She was a very cho'shuva (important/special/precious) woman," he explained.------------------------------------------------
Sonia Maron is survived by Rabbi Dr. Miriam Maron, an internationally-renowned author, spiritual healer and workshop teacher residing in Thousand Oaks, CA, Dr. Myron Maron, a physician residing in Petersham, MA, Dr. Ed Maron, a physician residing in Clinton, NJ, and Trudy Hawk, an internationally-renowned teacher/performer, residing in Rowland Heights, CA. Sonia Maron also leaves a legacy of nine grandchildren and six great-grandchildren.