Meira and Zayde

Sometimes, those we love continue affecting our world, long after they're gone.

Our daughter Meira is named after my grandfather, Meyer Solomont, of blessed memory - my Zayde. He died during Pesach in 1999; she was born just after Sukkot, six months later. She was the first great-grandchild named after him. 

Zayde was born in Boston’s North End in 1905 to Yiddish-speaking immigrants from Eastern Europe. When he was eight years old, he, his parents, and his two younger brothers moved from Boston to Lowell, Massachusetts, where they lived over a butcher shop which his father owned.

He and his brothers worked in that shop before and after school; they had no choice, because they had no money. Nonetheless, Zayde excelled in his studies (when his math teacher died halfway through one semester, Zayde ended up teaching the class for the rest of the year). After he graduated, Zayde went to Northeastern University Law School in Boston. When my mother asked him where he got the idea to do something as audacious as going to law school - he was a Jewish kid in early-1900s Massachusetts whose parents didn’t speak English - he answered that if he wanted to attend college, then law school was his only option: it alone was taught at night, and he needed to work all day in the butcher shop.

He met my grandmother, Nana, when he visited the Boston beach suburb of Nantasket one summer and was looking for a kosher meal. Nana’s mother owned a hotel in town called the New Waveland, though it was really more of a summer rooming house; their family did not get rich owning the New Waveland, to say the least. But the hotel did have kosher food, so that’s where Zayde went. Zayde and Nana were smitten with each other, and they were married in February, 1940. By then, both of his parents had already passed away.

Zayde worked as a lawyer, and also went into business with his brothers. He and Nana continued to live in Lowell, a city whose glory days were far in the past. His clients were often unable to pay him: one satisfied client bought him argyle socks in lieu of money, while another agreed to build Zayde’s sukkah for the next few years.

Even if Zayde studied law by default - he apparently would have preferred getting a business degree - he was proud of being a lawyer. He exuded integrity and honesty, and was a perfectionist in all the right ways. Several years ago, my mother asked another lawyer to review the bylaws that Zayde had written for the Orthodox shul where he served as president; the lawyer commented that he had never read bylaws as meticulously prepared as those that Zayde had composed.

Zayde was a lawyer who had deep faith in God, and who cared deeply about Jewish practice and Jewish education. He combined these with a soft-spoken demeanor, and well-earned wisdom. When Rabbi Shlomo Hochberg applied to be Lowell’s new Orthodox rabbi, he was told to eat at my grandparents’ house, so that he could be certain that the food was kosher. After Rabbi Hochberg was hired, Zayde took the young rabbi aside and told him that for the first year, if anyone ever complained about something that he did, to tell him that, “Meyer said to do that.” Zayde had the wisdom to know that a new rabbi needs time to feel comfortable and to find his place; by giving Rabbi Hochberg that advice, he was giving him the ability to grow into the job without pressure or compromise.

Zayde has been gone for 25 years, but his memory serves as both an inspiration and an example - an example of faith, an example of integrity, an example of wisdom, an example of love for his family.

Our daughter Meira graduated from Bar Ilan Law School last night, with honors - and she is completing an MBA, to boot. She is the first great-grandchild named after Zayde, and she is his first descendant to become a lawyer. And like Zayde, Meira embodies faith, integrity, wisdom, and love.

Meira never met Zayde. But it gives me tremendous joy to know that he would have loved her so much, and would have been so proud of the person she has become.

Meira, who carries his name and who lives by his example, gives everyone who knows her the opportunity to know Zayde, too.

Solomon writes, “A generation passes on and another generation arrives; and the earth lasts forever.” (Kohelet 1:4)

Although many of our commentators see this verse as representing a negative aspect of life, I think of something else: I think of Zayde and Meira. He and his generation are gone, but the later generations who live according to his values and example represent yet another opportunity to improve the world. By doing that, they allow that generation to live forever - not only in heaven, but here on earth.

I’m proud to have a daughter who carries Zayde’s name. I’m even prouder to have a daughter who embodies his values. Thank you, Meira, for bringing him back into our world.