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Mount Sinai Memorial Parks & Mortuaries
Eleanor Kazan
April 15th, 1925 - January 6th, 2026
April 15th, 1925 - January 6th, 2026
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Shannon
A poem to you grandma from your granddaughter Shannon Where do you begin speaking of a woman so rare, with kindness and grace that reached everywhere? A love without limits, a sharp, brilliant mind, a humor that sparkled, quick, clever, and kind. Sometimes inappropriate, often just right, leaving us laughing long into the night. You traveled the world, with stories galore, each one a reminder of the life you adored. You gathered us close, with tables spread wide, food, laughter, and love always warm at your side. And you never arrived without a sweater in hand, “Just in case you get cold,” you’d say, already planned. You never missed a moment, a show or a day, you showed up for everyone in every single way. You treated me special, in ways only you knew, slipping me money, “for a cab and pizza too.” But it was never just money, it was care, it was trust, a quiet way of saying, I’ve got you, always. I must. You were clever and creative, loving and strong, a little bit stubborn when something felt wrong. You noticed who needed you before they would ask, offering help without making it a task. Generous with love, with time and with care, your heart made room for everyone there. You were loving and strong, still sharp to the end, with stories and laughter, you were always a friend. Family was everything, your heart’s truest thread, yet friendships surrounded you everywhere you led. So deeply loved, by so many lives, you gave more of yourself than most ever try. Now your name lives on, a gift I hold dear, I named my child after you so your light stays right here. In her smile, your warmth, in her spirit, your fire, a legacy carried through love that won’t tire. A hundred years full, sharp, funny, and true, what a blessing it was to be loved by you.
Lorrie Kazan
"...here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)" ~ee cummings, from his poem "i carry your heart with me" I've been thinking about this poem during the time my beloved aunt was dying. As I sat by her bed, a couple of weeks before she passed, I thought what a golden soul she is and how much of a difference she's made in so many lives. I met her when I was around 3 and my Uncle Gene brought her to our house. She is the one, I told him. We don't need you to bring anyone else. She was special right from the start. Here is the story I want people to know. This happened when I was four or five years old. Uncle Gene and Aunt Eleanor took my mother, brother, sister and me to McArthur Park for the afternoon. At some point, I went into the restroom with my mother and sister. My mother and sister went into one stall and I was standing holding my doll and wondering what to do, where should I put her so I could use the stall. I set her next to the sink. When I came out of the stall, my beloved doll was gone. My mother, who was kind of tough in those days, and her immediate response was to berate me for being so stupid as to set the doll down and expect it to be there. I must've looked crushed as every time she looked at me, my mother seemed to get mad at me again. This would be my lesson. Now you won't have a doll. Some days later, my mother called me to the phone. "Aunt Eleanor wants to speak with you." I took the phone and my aunt asked me what kind of doll I liked. She specifically asked if I liked a doll with hair. The doll that was stolen was just a rubber doll with jagged lines where hair would be. The following week, a perfectly wrapped package came for me. Inside it was a doll curly hair and movable limbs. She wore a red and white dress., I named her Betsey Lee. That's the quintessential Aunt Eleanor story for me. I was the child who was quiet and often overlooked, but she saw me. She asked permission of my mother before asking me about a doll. It never occurred to me that she was planning to buy me another doll. Betsey Lee is with me to this day. She's much nicer than the doll I had and so much dearer than anything I'd ever received. I see now that in some families, parents carry their children's pain. But ours wasn't like that. You carried your loss yourself. I didn't know it could be another way. But that was Aunt El. She saw people. She saw details. Her heart was a treasure. She was a treasure. I'll carry her with me. Aunt Eleanor, I carry you with me. I carry your heart in my heart. You lived to be 100-years-old and still it wasn't enough. We wanted to be with you longer. I thanked you my whole life for that doll. I thank you today for the blessing you were to me and to all of us.
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