Bald Mike's Blog

In the Jewish tradition one does not bury the dead with a headstone. That event happens later and is called the “unveiling.”

We celebrated my father’s life at his unveiling on June 22. We read some prayers and sang some songs. I think it would have made him happy.

Sophia, whom will only remember her Grandpa Allen through our memories, was very sweet during our short ceremony and we were all touched when she sat down on her Grandpa’s headstone.

What follows are the prayers and songs we sang as we celebrated my father’s life.

Allen Charles Yudell, February 24, 1939-February 21, 2007

We Are Loved By An Unending Love
By Rabbi Rami Shapiro

We are loved by an unending love.
We are embraced by arms that find us even when we are hidden from ourselves.
We are touched by fingers that soothe us even when we are too proud for soothing.
We are counseled by voices that guide us even when we are too embittered to hear.
We are loved by an unending love.
We are supported by hands that uplift us even in the midst of a fall.

We are urged on by eyes that meet us even when we are too weak for meeting.
We are loved by an unending love.
Embraced, touched, soothed, and counseled,
Ours are the arms, the fingers, the voices;
Ours are the hands, the eyes, the smiles;
We are loved by an unending love.

Psalm 121
I will lift up mine eyes unto the mountains;
From whence shall my help come?
My help cometh from the Lord, Who made heaven and earth.
He will not suffer thy foot be moved;
He that keepeth thee will not slumber.
Behold, He that keepeth Israel Doth neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord is thy keeper;
The Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.
The sun shall not smite thee by day, Nor the moon by night.
The Lord shall keep thee from all evil;
He shall keep thy soul.
The Lord shall guard thy going out and thy coming in,
From this time forth and forever.

EL MOLEY RACHAMIM

El malay rachamim shochen bamiromim,
Hamtzey menucha nechona tachas kanfey hashechina,
B’ maalos kedoshim ut’ horim kezohar harakeea
mazhirim es nishma Chiam Guttman.
Shehalach 1’olamo
Ba’voor shenadvoo tzedaka b’ad
hazkaras nishmaso
b’ gan eden t’ hay m’ noochaso
lachen baal harachamim
yastirayhoo b’seser kna fav 1’olamim
v’ytzror bitzror hachayim es nishmaso
Adonoy hoo nachalaso, v’yanooach
b’shalom al mishkavo, v’nomar
ah’main.

EL MOLEH RACHAMIM
O, God, full of compassion, grant perfect rest beneath the shelter of Thy divine presence among the holy and pure who shine as the brightness of the firmament to the soul of our beloved who has gone to his eternal home.
Mayest Thou, O God of Mercy, shelter him forever under the wings of Thy presence, May his soul be bound up in the bond of life eternal, and grant that the memories of my life inspire me always to noble and consecrated living. Amen.

Unveiling the Headstone

In memory of Allen Yudell, we establish and consecrate this monument.
It is a token of our deep love and respect.
He is remembered now, and forever, part of the good in each of us.
May his soul be bound up in the bonds of life.

Prayer on Unveiling Markers or Monuments

The body has died; the spirit it housed will never die. On earth our dear ones do live on through those of us to whom they were so very precious.
(The covering is removed)
We now fondly dedicate this memorial to the blessed memory of Allen Yudell realizing that his remains lie not only in this plot of ground but in every heart his life did touch.

O G-d, we are grateful for the years we were privileged to share with him -years when he brought us so many pleasures and taught us so very much by example.

And even thought he has left our midst, we know he will never leave our hearts where his memory will endure as a blessing forever.

Mourner’s Kaddish

Yit’gadal v’yit’kadash sh’mei raba (Cong: Amein).
May G-d’s great Name grow exalted and sanctified (`Cong: Amen.)

b’al’ma di v’ra khir’utei
in the world that G-d created as She willed.

v’yam’likh mal’khutei b’chayeikhon uv’yomeikhon
May She give reign to Her kingship in your lifetimes and in your days,

uv’chayei d’khol beit yis’ra’eil
and in the lifetimes of the entire Family of Israel,

ba’agala uviz’man kariv v’im’ru:
swiftly and soon. Now say:
(Mourners and Congregation:)

Amein. Y’hei sh’mei raba m’varakh l’alam ul’al’mei al’maya
(Amen. May G-d’s great Name be blessed forever and ever.)

Yit’barakh v’yish’tabach v’yit’pa’ar v’yit’romam v’yit’nasei
Blessed, praised, glorified, exalted, extolled,

v’yit’hadar v’yit’aleh v’yit’halal sh’mei d’kud’sha
mighty, upraised, and lauded be the Name of the Holy One
(Mourners and Congregation:)

B’rikh hu.
Blessed is She.

l’eila min kol bir’khata v’shirara
beyond any blessing and song,

toosh’b’chatah v’nechematah, da’ameeran b’al’mah, v’eemru:
praise and consolation that are uttered in the world. Now say:
(Mourners and Congregation:)

Amein
Amen

Y’hei sh’lama raba min sh’maya
May there be abundant peace from Heaven

v’chayim aleinu v’al kol yis’ra’eil v’im’ru
and life upon us and upon all Israel. Now say:
(Mourners and Congregation:)

Amein
Amen

Oseh shalom bim’romav hu ya’aseh shalom
G-d Who makes peace in Her heights, may She make peace,

aleinu v’al kol Yis’ra’eil v’im’ru
upon us and upon all Israel. Now say:
(Mourners and Congregation:)

Amein
Amen

“A House With Love In It”
By Nat King Cole

A house with love in it is rich indeed

although there are a thousand things that house may need


The carpet may be old, the room so plain and bare

and yet it’s beautiful somehow when love is living there


A house with love in it just seems to bloom

as though the month of may were filling every room


So darling true the years with all my heart I’ll pray
a house with love in it is where we’ll stay


So darling true the years with all my heart I’ll pray
a house with love in it is where we’ll stay.


“Nature Boy”
By Nat King Cole

There was a boy

A very strange enchanted boy

They say he wandered very far, very far

Over land and sea

A little shy and sad of eye

But very wise was he


And then one day

A magic day he passed my way

And while we spoke of many things
Fools and kings

This he said to me

“the greatest thing you’ll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return”



“Keep Me In Your Heart”

By Warren Zevon & Jorge Calderon


Shadows are falling and I’m running out of breath

Keep me in your heart for awhile


If I leave you it doesn’t mean I love you any less

Keep me in your heart for awhile


When you get up in the morning and you see that crazy sun

Keep me in your heart for awhile


There’s a train leaving nightly called when all is said and done

Keep me in your heart for awhile


Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for awhile


Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for awhile


Sometimes when you’re doing simple things
around the house

Maybe you’ll think of me and smile


You know I’m tied to you like the buttons on
your blouse

Keep me in your heart for awhile


Hold me in your thoughts, take me to your dreams

Touch me as I fall into view

When the winter comes keep the fires lit

And I will be right next to you


Engine driver’s headed north to Pleasant Stream

Keep me in your heart for awhile


These wheels keep turning but they’re running out
of steam

Keep me in your heart for awhile

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo

Keep me in your heart for awhile

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo

Keep me in your heart for awhile


Keep me in your heart for awhile

Today is my first anniversary of being chemo and lymphoma-free.

This past Monday I was in Boca Raton, Florida, speaking at a fundraiser for the Lymphoma Research Foundation. This, the second annual LRF fundraiser in Boca, raised over 100K, bringing their two year total to over 200K. Yay, good ladies of Boca Raton, thank you for your efforts on behalf of this important cause.  

Thank you very much for that introduction Sue. And, Sue, I thank you and the entire staff of the LRF for taking such good care of me last year while I was in chemo. There are many wonderful causes out there, and this one is obviously personal for me, but I want all of you know that the money raised here today goes towards an important organization overseen by a group of people with giant hearts.

Pause

It is an honor to be here with you today. I want to thank all of you for your efforts on behalf of the LRF, especially Judy Bronstein and the Committee that helped put together this wonderful event. Together you have raised more than 200k in the last two years. I can only hope that you continue your efforts on behalf of lymphoma survivors like myself far into the future.

For those of you who were not here last year, and do not know my story, in August of 2006 I began a grueling eight month regimen of chemotherapy to rid my body of a slowly growing but very dangerous form of lymphoma. There are more than thirty types of non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and despite being a triathlete, a healthy eater, and even someone who regularly meditates and does yoga, I was struck with a form of it—mantle cell lymphoma—that normally hits men in their late 60s and can be very difficult to treat. So there I was, my wife Jacqueline pregnant with our first child, and me, checked into the University of Pennsylvania Hospital every three weeks for three nights for over eight months. And as if that weren’t enough, in the middle of all of this craziness two very separate events defined our lymphoma year: Sophia was born on November 30th and the very next morning I found out that the chemo that had made me sick, rendered me unable to take the best care of my lovely wife during her pregnancy, had worked and had quickly put me into remission; BUT, at that same time, during that same week of miracles, my wonderful father, who many of you knew well, who himself had battled cancer for almost nine years, had a recurrence. He declined quickly, and would pass in late February while I was tethered to an IV, unable to be with him at his end. My only solace in that is that in the months before he died he was able to spend some nice time with Sophia, singing to her, tickling her, and giving her kisses, and knowing that despite the cruel timing of his illness, he got to be a grandfather.

Looking back on that time in my life, it almost seems unreal. I have my health and my hair back, I have a beautiful daughter who’s smile lights up our house, I will receive my Ph.D. from Columbia Unniversity in May, I am back at work, I swim almost a mile every day, and just two weeks ago I saw my doctor at the University of Pennsylvania, Steve Schuster, who smiled as he saw the results of my latest tests, confirming that indeed his work had been a great, albeit, punishing success.

Just a year ago, almost to the day, he had admitted me to the hospital. I was struggling with a nearly 104 fever, a dangerous side-effect of the chemo. I could see in his eyes that he was worried that he was killing me by administering the toxic brew of chemicals that were meant to save my life. But after one long very sweaty night, that fever passed, and after two more harsh rounds of treatment I was on my way to recovery, and our mission was accomplished. I stand before you here today as both a sign of the progress in treating lymphoma—I can expect a very long remission and hold out hope for a cure because of the research that you all help to fund—and as a symbol of how much more work needs to be done in lymphoma research and prevention—because despite my belief that I am cured, it is statistically likely that some day my lymphoma will return. I remain confident that events like today’s that raise both money and awareness, and build connections between people like us, will keep me healthy and insure that I get to dance with my beautiful Sophia at her wedding some twenty to thirty years hence.

I think it would be appropriate, given that this is a women’s lunch, and that the women here today have worked so hard to raise money for this important cause, that I share with you some thoughts about the women in my life and the role that they played while I was sick.

My mother-in-law Debra Sacks is here with us today. The great thing about Debbie is that she is always ready, willing, and able. Not in a “nebbishy, in your face” kind of way, and not in an overwhelming “I gotta get out of the house my mother-in-law is here” kind of way, but rather, when I was sick in just a “what can I do to be as helpful as possible to Michael and Jacqui, especially in their time of need” kind of way. Thank you Debbie.

My sister Andrea, who is not here with us today, has been an endless source of love. Andrea is my little sister, which means that since she was born she suffered through brutal teasing, the occasional pulling of hair, and certainly the “I am too cool for you and your little friends” years of high school. But through it all she always showed unswerving love and dedication to her big brother, and has most importantly, forgiven me for torturing her.

My mother, who many of you now know as the flower and home accessories maven of Boca Raton, is here today and I want to thank all of you for taking care of her while my dad and I were sick last year. The idea of a mother seeing her son go through hell, even to save his life, must have really sucked. My mom’s confidence in my treatment outcome, her love and support to Jacqui and I, and her seemingly effortless ability to clean an entire home in what seemed like minutes, was invaluable to us. Thank you mom. You remind me every day of the importance of love and family.

My wife Jacqueline is also here with us today. Jacqueline, not a day has gone by in our now almost seven years together when I didn’t feel like a better man because of you; I feel your love in both moments of laughter and silence, joy and pain; Jacqui, despite originally being diagnosed with lymphoma just months after our wedding you have stood by me through the difficulties of coping with a potentially deadly illness, and even when the stress of life could have divided us, it brought us closer and closer together (I should say that through months 6 through 8 of her pregnancy Jacqui slept on a cot next to me in the hospital, never leaving my side); finally, everyday I gain great pleasure parenting our daughter with you and watching you mother Sophia with tenderness and love.

I want to also thank my daughter Sophia and tell her what it has meant to me to become a father in the midst of what I can only describe as a crazy time. Every day I was in chemo I was strengthened and inspired, first at the idea of being a father and then by having you. Everyday when I pick you up from the crib in the morning and see your sometimes crying and sometimes smiling face, I think of the future, and know, that despite whatever obstacles lie ahead, our future is bright and long together.

Finally, to you all, the new women in my life, I say thank you. Your generosity of spirit and your generous donations to the LRF are deeply touching to me and my family. Without all of you, and people like you in communities across the country, the LRF would not be able to fulfill its mission. So from this lymphoma survivor, and on behalf of my family, I want to say thank you. The work that all of you have done here today and the work I know you will continue to do on behalf of the LRF in the future will help insure that our family will stay healthy and together, and that I will be alive to be the father, husband, son, brother, and friend to you all that I know you want me to be.

Thank you.

I have a very vivid memory of the day my dad turned 40.

February 24, 1979. It was a Saturday. It was an unseasonably warm day.

I played hockey that afternoon at Twin Rinks with my childhood friends Brad Blumenfeld and Danny Steinberg. Brad’s mother Susan picked us up from hockey.

When I came home a truck was in our driveway dropping off catering supplies. My mother had planned a surprise party for my father and hadn’t told me. She didn’t think I could keep a secret like that from my dad. She was probably right.

She had gotten him out of the house on some ruse with the help of his friend Bob Levitas. She had hired a DJ for the night and even had a disco ball installed on the ceiling of our dining room. It was the 70s after all. I even remember that the DJ was blind in one eye. I also remember having one heck of a time and being allowed to stay up well past my bedtime.

From the look on my dad’s face, he too had one heck of a time. I remember thinking as a 11-year-old how old 40 felt. And now I am turning 40. And, well, it doesn’t really feel that old. I hope that he didn’t feel old that day. He looks so young. Just hitting his prime. His career was blossoming. He had a wonderful family. He would have his health for another twenty years. Life was good. And it shows in the smile on his face in photos from that day. Looking at him back then, so happy and full of life, it is impossible to think of him gone, lost to us, and lost to the life that he lived so fully.

If you look carefully, my increasingly large nose is
visible in the top left-hand corner of the photo.

This has been a hard week, and it is making 40 a bittersweet reminder of the year that was. Last week we marked several difficult milestones–a year since his passing and burial, and his birthday that we celebrated in his honor to remember all that he was to us. My mom and Andrea came in so we could be together, which was important to all of us. They were not able to stay for his birthday, so Jacqui and I marked it by going out for a feast at a great restaurant. Just the way he would have wanted it. And as Sophia grows up, we will celebrate his birthday with a special meal and share stories of his eating prowess and love for his family and for life.

Disco baby!!!

This is a leap year, so it is a special birthday for me. Not only will I be 40, but I will also be 10. My 30s were a decade of highs and lows. A lot of living. I met Jacqui, fell in love, and found in her a partner, a lover, and a wife. I got sick and got better. Sophia!!! And then my dad died.

I’ll take a little more yang and a little less yin in my 40s.

There is a photo of my father above Sophia’s crib, and I often sing to her at night with a song my father always sang to my sister when she was a baby:

Do you love me?
Well I love you.
I really, really love you.
You are my special girl.
Do you love me?
Well I love you.

I miss him.

That guy doesn’t look a day over 39!

Last weekend we celebrated Sophia’s first birthday with her little friend Emma (they share the same birthday). We had some other little babies over, ate some cake, and sang happy birthday. Fun was had by all, except for Sophia when we stuck a birthday hat on her head, which she did not like.

What’s a first birthday without a monkey cake?

Just a quick note to let everyone know that I had scans last week and got the results today.

All’s clear.

This marks 8 months out of chemo and lymphoma-free. A good sign for a bright future.

More later on my sweating it out this weekend waiting for the results.

Sophia and her best buddy Emma had complementary Halloween costumes as they celebrated their first All Hallows Eve together. Sophia was a fire chief and Emma was a Dalmatian. They were extremely cute.