Carole (Crandall) Levy

I remember Carole as being the most graceful, charming and funny woman. I am saddened to know of her passing. Wishing the family all my best and love. God bless the love you all have for each other...

Remembrance
By Marshall Levy

I was at my fiftieth birthday party, my mother-in-law apologized for not being able to buy me a gift. I replied "Mother, you have given me the greatest gift of all, your daughter". Twenty-seven years prior, sitting at a department store lunch counter, my eyes were fixated on the most extraordinary woman I had ever seen. I pondered "What saint had died that God had sent his most beautiful angel to earth". An angel with the mirrored face

Remembrance
By Marshall Levy

I was at my fiftieth birthday party, my mother-in-law apologized for not being able to buy me a gift. I replied "Mother, you have given me the greatest gift of all, your daughter". Twenty-seven years prior, sitting at a department store lunch counter, my eyes were fixated on the most extraordinary woman I had ever seen. I pondered "What saint had died that God had sent his most beautiful angel to earth". An angel with the mirrored face of a Grace Kelly. The sculptured figure, a Marilyn Monroe would envy. Unadorned except for lipstick, eyes of blue, a blue never seen on this earth, hair of spun gold. Not a curl out of place. I was mesmerized.

I questioned management and, to my surprise, was told she was a lipstick model at the cosmetic department. I too worked there in a different department. Working up my courage, I asked her if she would like to join me for dinner after work; she gave me her address and phone number.

Arriving at her address she standing inside the entrance to the Heath Street Projects, wearing a sequined form fitting dress with a blue cape. She seemed out of place as I escorted her to my father's ten year-old rusted Pontiac. We agreed to try a neighborhood Italian restaurant. At dinner, our conversation was somewhat one-sided, I was too stunned to do anything but stare. She light-heartedly quipped that she expected to be picked up in a Cadillac or, at least, a Lincoln - were not all Jewish boys wealthy? I laughed and remarked that I was working part-time to put myself through college on the way to graduate school. She unabashedly declared that she had not finished high school. It did not matter, for I had found a treasure.

The evening was still young so we decided to try out the 'Totem Pole', a dance club in the Dedham area where there was fox-trotting, waltzing, even tangoing to the base voice of Vaughn Monroe. She followed my steps, gliding across the floor without effort; I complimented her on her dance skills. She remarked that she came from a family of dancers and her aunts were Rockettes, "perfection in cadence".

As the music came to a close, I escorted her to the car and drove to the hill at Boston College, overlooking the lights of Boston. I asked permission to kiss her, there was a long lingering kiss that I did not want to end. On our second date, I asked to marry her. I knew what I had and did not want to lose her. To my utter joy, she agreed and we discussed our future, I, a conservative Jew (almost Orthodox), she a non-practicing Catholic, I told her that acceptance of our relationship with our families was highly improbable. She remarked that her mother, though divorced, would never accept the arrangement. When our relationship became known to my parents (a cousin had seen us together), a wall of icy silence came about between me and my parents. They would never allow it. The family car was denied to me. Family dinners became intolerable. I came home only to sleep. She was admonished by her mother: "How would you marry a Jew? Never!!" Her reply was "I do not care, I love him".

Our social life consisted of Friday and Saturday dinners, a movie or both, our kingdom a park bench in the Boston Common. We held each other, kissing, holding our bodies tightly together, oblivious to the outside world. Our plan: a marriage on the night of my final exam by a Justice of the Peace and then a self-imposed exile to New York City. A position with a department store was made available to me.

The next six months we lived in a residential hotel: a hot plate, a few pans, plates, and silverware our only possessions.

One night my youngest sister called. There had been no communications between me and my family. My parents had read in a local newspaper of my marriage. For nearly six months, they had mourned the loss of a son. Now they had accepted the fact and asked would I like to come home? The timing was perfect for I had received my draft notice, there was no other place to go.

Arriving with our meager possessions on a Sunday morning, my bride was initially received coldly, but my wife's natural beauty and the beauty of her soul captivated my parents. My wife became my mother's favorite, much to the consternation of my sisters. I was soon on my way to Fort Dix in New Jersey, then to Fort Knox in Kentucky. My homecoming after basic training, at Christmas time, was graciously accepted with warmth.

Three moths later I learned my wife was pregnant. With my father's help, my wife flew to Kentucky to join me. Our son was born in a suburb of Fort Knox. When he was six months old, I was discharged and I came home to live with my parents for a six month period.

The years passed: good years, bad years, buffeted by the travails and vicissitudes of life, enduring debilitating depressions, years of great success, miserable failure. The angel I married buoyed my spirit, steadily steering the vassal of life through many storms and dead calm - accepting my weaknesses, never denigrating "my love".

Now that the final chapter are being written she resides in an exceptional nursing home, her body crippled with psoriatic arthritis. He wit still sharp in its dryness. There now is what was, and will never be again. Yet, when I enter her room, my breath, upon seeing her, is taken away. Her face, which in ancient times surely would have launched a thousand ships, not a wrinkle or blemish. I want to ask her, as the song refrains, "Lay your head on my shoulder, your warm and tender body next to mine, for the good times...For my darling, you look wonderful tonight". They were the best of times. As I hold her crippled hand to my cheek, gently kissing her forehead, it is enough. It is enough for she is still with me, she is still with me.

With deepest sympathy in the loss of your wonderful, funny, and spirited mother. Her grace and her strength will long be remembered. May memories of her and the knowledge that she is enjoying her reward on heaven bring comfort to all of you.