My mother was a unique personality, larger than life. She loved people, cared about them, and made them the center of her universe. She filled up a room in a way that no one else could. She was Roslyn Shor and she was my mother. I see her now in my memories, frozen in time. Strong and vibrant and full of life, before cancer took her from us just two days after her 65th birthday. Because my mother was also a native Washingtonian and this column is about stories, I think the best way to pay tribute to my mother is to tell you vignettes and stories about her that will give you a glimpse into who she was.
Once, when I was a kid, I caused some trouble in school and she had to go in for a conference. She wasn’t going to let that teacher talk badly about her Larry! She told the teacher, “Honey, when he misbehaves at home, I don’t call you!” She loved her life-long shul, Beth Sholom, and the great cantors that she loved to listen to. The rabbis were her friends. When it was time for me to become a bar mitzvah, she called the rabbi of the shul, Harry Kaufman and told him to come to the family photo shoot so that he could take a picture with me and I would always remember him. I still have it today!