Marty

These are the words I spoke at Marty’s funeral on May 29th. I wanted to share them here for posterity.

During the blizzard of 1967 we had the snowball fight of the century. Marty and I against our respective sisters, Ellen and Robin. Afterwards we built a snow fort together.

Sometime thereafter, at Ellen’s Bat Mitzvah, Marty and I shared a bottle of Mogen David. The first of many such parties.

But it wasn’t just partying… there were chess games, philosophical discussions and debates over snacks in my room. Books and Science Fiction and music.

Marty LOVED music – listening and discussing the latest release. He was a regular contributor and founding member of our music appreciation club. He could tell you who the backup bass player was or how high the record charted. He had an encyclopedic knowledge about performers.

And there were concerts. Many a night was spent waiting for concert tickets. The Grateful Dead was one of his favorite bands and we would go to see them every time they came through town.

See, Marty wasn’t just a neighbor or friend, he was family and what wonderful family. There are so many stories… we laugh over them constantly.

Like the first and only time Marty went skiing… backwards down the hill at Alpine Valley.

And his D&D character, Lemroh (specially named for him), being tossed about by fate and a twelve-sided die. Or the time he almost sold his stereo to join EST when we attended a seminar together.

Do you remember the time he almost fell off Lisa’s roof or when he broke Ron’s towel rack? Or when he lost his glasses temporarily at Oakton pool water slide?

These are the things I think of when I think of Marty.

He treasured vacationing and camping. We took a few trips together, to Missouri on our “Days of Wein and Yogi” campout that so many of you went on.

And in Cleveland, he taught my son Zach how to play poker as well as took him to his first visit to Hooters.

He loved to swim and joined us every Saturday morning over the summer for our weekly pool party.

All the barbeques, parties and dinners – each with a commemorative photo where he flipped me the bird (or the double bird) – that’s the Marty I remember.

He was at my wedding, my daughter’s wedding, my son’s 18th birthday and most recently the baby shower for my twin granddaughters.

The last time I saw him, we were at the rummage sale in Winnetka, a tradition we had enjoyed for over 20 years. Marty had his bag of treasures tucked under his arm as we enjoyed breakfast at Walker Brothers.

My life – our lives were blessed by having him in it. GOD bless his soul.

Marty was one of my best friends. He was a wonderful person. I will miss him so deeply it hurts. Part of our history and part of our future is gone. But he will live on in our hearts, and if we look around us, we can see his accomplishments as well. He has made a difference in other’s lives. He made a difference in my life and I am thankful that I got to know him and proud to say he was a real friend.

Marty I love you and I’m going to miss you.