Monday, February 22, 2010

Hesped (Eulogy) from Shoshana Silberman

About Mel

I met Mel at a regional Hebrew High School, when we were both fourteen years old. At fifteen, we agreed that marriage was in our future. We decided to give our love a test by going to separate colleges and dating others. At twenty, we knew we wanted to be together and became engaged. The plan was for me to graduate from Columbia a year early and join Mel in Waltham, where he’d finish his senior year at Brandeis.

In order to do this, I had to spend the summer before the wedding, taking courses at Columbia. Mel was a counselor of the oldest teen boys at Camp Ramah. Well, a few times a week, Mel waited for his campers to settle in and then drove to New York City. He returned in time to wake up these future rabbis and one prominent cantor. Little did I realize then, that this was an example of the “super Mel” that would astonish everyone by his ability to will himself extra years, not just for himself, but because we needed him. Many years later, we learned that the campers and junior counselor all knew his “secret” and had pretended to go right to sleep, so he could leave. Even then, everyone rooted for him!

It was easy to be attracted to Mel. He was handsome and popular, as well as a born leader. He served as both a regional and national USY officer. He also was president of Brandeis Hillel. He was not only a top–notch student, but also someone who could wisely make use of knowledge in a creative way. These qualities made him a star, but it was his character that made him a mensch: his truthfulness, integrity, kindness, compassion and respect for everyone. He quite naturally gave people the benefit of the doubt and always judged on the side of merit.

Mel exhibited the rare combination of one who had both the capacity for simple fun and deep thought. He could go from watching his beloved Eagles to studying the Daf Yomi, (the daily Talmud assignment.) He could write interesting books or touching love letters. He was never boring.

Mel was always open to new experiences. When we were in graduate school at the University of Chicago, I asked him to join me at a modern dance concert. Although he had never seen modern dance before, he became an instant fan. He was equally comfortable at the opera or a Grateful Dead concert. Mel loved the chamber music concerts at Richardson Auditorium. These were not just aesthetic experiences for him, but spiritual ones, as well. He loved to travel and became a master of the guidebook. Together we went to thirty-four countries, and he went to several more on his own to do workshops. He was a people person and conversed with everyone he met, whether or not he knew the language. He also loved the seashore and spent some of his happiest moments in Ocean Grove.

Over the years, Mel reinvented himself. He began as a professor of educational psychology, but branched into counseling, adult education and corporate training. Yet all that he did was based on his belief that all learning must be “active.” For him, real learning took place only when the mind was truly engaged. His many books influenced people all over the world. Most fortunate, though, were those that he taught. No one took a course with Mel and did not rave about him. In fact, he won the Linback prize and “The Great Teacher Award” at Temple University. He indeed left his mark. There’s a stone at Temple with his name carved into it.

I once observed his doing a session for 600 people at a conference. I was astounded to see him warm up the audience with humor, as if he were a professional comedian. Then he easily put them through learning exercises. What struck me was the joy in the room. He connected with all 600 participants! Mel really loved teaching and his students benefited from his energy, knowledge and skill. Despite his numerous chemotherapies, surgeries, and radiation treatments, he never missed a single class. During his last semester, family and friends drove him to his weekly five hour class at the Center City branch of Temple University. Then they drove him home after class - at 10:00 PM.


I also remember a time he taught at the chavurah minyan when he discussed the return of his cancer. He told everyone how important it was for him to be able to proclaim his illness and ask for support (“Tammai, Tammai, Ten Rachamim.”) He was able to define what he needed and guided us all. Mel was never in denial about his cancer, but somehow remained an “optimistic realist.” He wanted to live as normally and as fully as possible. He set the tone and the pace for those of us less courageous or strong.

Mel enjoyed his friends, both male and female. He liked people who were both smart and kind. He often used the word “sweet” to describe his closest male friends. Actually, I think this is an appropriate word to describe Mel himself. He was strong in every way – including sweet.


His greatest role was that of father and grandfather. He gave so much of himself to his children, their spouses and the six grandchildren. He loved them so much and always came through for them. He was a source of wisdom and inspiration. Mel provided a model for them of how to live a life based on Torah values. The first line of the Shulchan Aruch (the Code of Jewish Law) “Yitgaber K’Ari Lamod BaBoboker Al Avodat Boro”, directs us to rise in the morning, with the fearlessness of a lion, to serve the Holy One. Moshe Leib, became a “double lion” due to his adding the Hebrew name “Aryeh” meaning lion, to his Yiddish middle name “Leib”, which also means lion, following his original diagnosis. Indeed, he showed how this should be done.

When I was in high school, I often doodled Mel’s name in my notebook. I marveled at how through all of time and space, we found each other. To me, his love was the greatest gift possible. Later, I realized that the gift of Mel also included his enabling me to grow and become my own person and to be a full partner in the adventure of marriage. He was the most supportive, and encouraging husband. He was a mentor, friend and always my “True Love.” After all these years, I still marvel that through all of time and space, we were destined to be together. Mel once told me,” I will love you beyond the grave.” I believe him. If anyone can do this, Mel can.

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