HARRY BERNSTEIN---EULOGY

 

Harry Bernstein grew up in Waltham, as an only child of Harold and Lena.  He was focused, getting a degree from the University of Mass. @ Amherst, and a Masters from Bentley. Even while working a full time job, he worked off hours as a banquet waiter.  But enough of the biography. Let’s get to know who Harry really was.

 

It seems like when someone dies, they become angels, No one can say a bad word about them. But, even when Harry was here with us, no one could say a bad word about him. Because, it seems everyone who knew him felt they were his best friend. He had that kind of way about him. You could place him in a room with a group of strangers, and by the end of the night, they were all Harry’s friends. He was a gentle soul. He’d do anything for anyone—family or friend. Even when he was going through chemo, he’d drive his Aunt Mary around, because she liked how he drove her. How did Aunt Mary get here today? Harry would want to know. He did so much for so many, in a quiet, dignified subtle way. He has supported Granada House in Allston for many years, helping to care for the downtrodden, drug addicts who were trying to make it. He would go out of his way to thank family and friends if they invited him into their home for a meal, or get together. Harry would bring his traditional fruit basket or a gift certificate to a restaurant, or maybe some baked goods. Anyway that he could say thanks for including him as a part of their family. Maybe he didn’t realize just how much everyone loved having Harry there. He didn’t need to bring anything more than his knowing smirk, and his biting wit. And, he loved to eat. Whether it was blintzes at Aunt Lillians, lasagna from Aunt Mary, or Italian S Cookies from Aunt Josie. He’d eat, have a few beers, and be great company.

 

The saddest thing is that this man, who appreciated the finest gourmet foods, was unable to eat for the final months of his life. Ironically, he watched the food channel, to see, as he put it, “foods that I can’t eat.” His razor sharp wit stayed with him to the very end, as did his appetite for life.

 

He loved to travel—going to Italy five times, and tracing his roots in Sicily. He traveled to all parts of the world. But, he didn’t necessarily need to have luxurious accommodations. He stayed on one vacation with his cousins Cindy, Pam, Leesa, Rachel, Sabrina and Karen---all in one very crowded hotel room, where he slept on the floor! But, family and friends knew something about Harry—he could sleep anywhere. Give him a meal, and he’d sleep no matter where he was. His pal Charlie Smerlis said Harry was the only person he knew who could play cards, while actually sleeping.

 

For relatives of Harry, we all had quite the surprise when we gathered with his friends, after God called him away.  His personal life remained a mystery to many of us. Harry evidently had relationships for years with different women, but never told any relatives. He never even mentioned to any of us ever going on a date. We thought he was some kind of hermit.  His cousin Jimmy Bucciarelli said, “He never mentioned women to any of his relatives.”  His pal Peter McGrath replied, “That was part of his genius.”

 

Harry had his wild times.  In fact, since this is a PG rated eulogy, we’ll use the Reader’s Digest version.  You should see what I had to discard. There was the time that Joe Ryan, and Joe Giovangelo and Harry went out on the Cape.  Harry dared Joe G to ask three women in P-town to join them on a boat. They ended up spending a long and wonderful day on the boat with these women, with Joe G having to explain the situation to his wife, Rhonda.

 

His friend Peter said that Harry, “had an intellectual ability far beyond most people. He also had more common sense than anyone I ever met. He knew how to come into a room, what to say, and when to leave. It was easy to think he wasn’t strong. But, he was stronger than most people.”  Peter used to bounce off Harry things that he thought about. “If it was something stupid, he’d just give you that look.”

 

Harry worked at the Executive Office of Elderly Affairs.  He told his friend Carol Marie McGrath that he spent his time there “acting old.”  Of course, he said he was Carol’s second husband, “the one with no benefits.” He called Carol Marie his “wayward nurse”, and would leave her frequent messages asking her if she was keeping up with her cooking or doing “domesticals.”  Since she didn’t cook, he’d leave messages for her poor husband Peter saying, “You’re having pork chops tonight. But, you’re making them.”

 

Peter & Carol, with whom he spent his final months, said 25 people called him just after learning of Harry’s passing. “They were all crying and saying he was their best friend.” He had a dozen friends from his real estate years, and a dozen friends from the hospital years before that. Everyone felt he was the nicest person to work with. He would smile in the face of any obstacle. Yet, he spoke his mind, in a clever, understated, yet effective way.  When a supervisor at the hospital complained to him every day, he eventually had an answer for her. One day, when she came in complaining as always, he put on a woman’s flowered shower cap. When she asked why he had on a flowered women’s shower cap, he replied, “I put it on because I didn’t want my brains to leak out like yours obviously did.”  Yes, indeed he could cut with elegant sarcasm.  When his mom complained about putting on a few pounds, she’d line their home with delicious homemade pies. She’d say, “I don’t know how I’m gaining weight, I’m only eating one slice.” He’d say, “But you have a slice from every pie.” 

 

He loved a good time.  He and a couple of his pals “adopted” an order of nuns. Peter and Harry befriended Sister Charles, an organizer who raised millions for Carney Hospital. She was a gambling addict, who had taken a vow of poverty. Peter and Harry took her to Rockingham Park, where together they gave her over $1000 to bet.  She lost it all. Harry said that Sister Charles couldn’t win a two horse raise if she boxed the perfecta.  You gambling people will know what that means.

 

Harry had a great humility.  He was full of self-deprecating humor. And, he was truly a magnificent friend. When Peg called from New Mexico in need, he flew out to her.  When his cousin Cindy lost her brother Roy, he was there for her.  When Cindy’s parents needed to be moved to an assisted living facility, he went with her to every meeting. He worked for the Dept. of Elder Affairs. Who better?

 

As his friend Peter said, “If you did anything for him, he was worried about you.”  He never complained, even while going through the nightmare of his particular cancer. In his worst days, if you asked him how he was doing he’d reply, “Pretty suckily”, but with a smile.

 

Despite his Italian and Jewish blood, there’s no question that in Heaven today, Harry’s up there drinking green beer for St. Patrick’s day. Please join me in fighting back the tears of our loss, and doing what Harry would want you to do---Smile.  God is waiting with a Coors Light for our relative and friend, Harry Bernstein.

 

 

 

 

 with love,

Mark Snyder
3/17/10

 

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