HERZMARK, Barbara Lerner
Summing up Mom in two words: Loving, Bright, Relentless, Empathetic, Warm, Nervous, Pushy, Kind, Curious, Elegant, Passionate, Giving, Nosey, Cautious, Salty-Tongued, Tasteful, and, heartbreakingly, Gone. On Friday, March 22, 2019 at 1:14 a.m., Barbara Marsha Lerner Herzmark, of San Pedro, California, split for parts unknown. It was her time of day. She was usually up then- "thinking or worrying." What are you worrying about, Mom? "Everything. It's a beautiful world but there's so much that can go wrong." And yet, so much went exactly right for her. Her 68 year marriage to Leonard was a union that produced three sons, Michael, Jay, and Paul (a noisy family, but it was bound by love). Mergers and acquisitions brought her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Mom was crazy for them (as they were for her). It was even better than she'd expected (and Mom had lofty expectations). She did well growing up in New Jersey and, as a young wife, became a solid citizen of Kansas City. She pulled up those roots to head west with Len, and re-planted them in Denver, Phoenix, Scottsdale, Tucson, and, finally, San Pedro, CA. Not that she was on the run from anything, but she was always on the move. Education was Mom's deity. Her scholastic record features Bank Street in NYC, Pembroke/Brown in Rhode Island, graduate school at the University of Kansas (Rock Chalk Jayhawk), Arizona State University (A proud Sun Devilbut wear a hat and use sunscreen), and classes at The University of Arizona in Tucson. Her master's degree was a treasured accomplishment. "I'm silently correcting your grammar," reads the refrigerator magnet still in Mom's kitchen. Yes, she corrected grammarbut not to make you feel small or incompetent. It was just to get it right. Because deep down, as a teacher, she wanted you (and everyone) to know, to expand, to learn, to growand to wear a helmet as a guard against injury. Her career path wound through camp counseling, teaching, travel agencies, and occasional stints at the family plastic bag factory. All the while holding down the home front with hand-squeezed orange juice for breakfast. Despite the phone numbers written on dozens of tiny paper scraps strewn about her home, she was an organizer. Need volunteers to slice turkey at the Salvation Army Thanksgiving and Christmas meals? They say Mom rounded up over 400 slicers during her years in Tucson. She also ran herd, every year, on the docents at the Southern Arizona Research, Science, and Engineering Foundation (SARSEF) while Dad was busy proving E=MCSquared to the young entrants at the science fairs. As a Cub Scout mother, she was the force behind a 1/10th scale model of the Denver Civic Center-constructed entirely of macaroni (and painted white) by Den 12. She served as president of Women's American ORT in Kansas City. During political elections, she canvassed to get out the vote. One weekend, while a teacher, she drove a van of her special-needs students from Tucson to Los Angeles for a visit to the rockets at the Jet Propulsion Lab. And she had them all back in class on Monday morning. In her retirement communities, Mom helped run the libraries and bring in speakers. She enjoyed hearing the author comparing and contrasting his novel's characters, the artist discussing her painting, the political scientist trying to explain what the heck was going on. She just wanted to know. Plus it distracted her from the world's limitations. She tried playing viola, took a spin at rock hounding, snow skied (she knitted herself and dad some terrific ski sweaters), went hiking, biking, and got the family out camping. Mom loved to play catch with a hardball. She provided her kids music lessons, and beamed as they scratched through the works of Mozart and The Beatles. A life-long hobby was visiting the doctor. Just in case. Her soul was that of an artist. Her medium, people. Her M.O., direct: "Do you ever give lessons?" she asked a world famous, Navajo Master rug weaver. (This is akin to cornering Tiger Woods at the US Open and asking him to help you with your putting.) Nobody does that. But she did. And it worked. Just a few days later, Mom (aged 59) was barreling towards Shiprock, NM, where she spent a week with the Navajo family. She slept on a stack of rugs in an out-building, learned a bit of weaving, played with the children, drank in the local culture, and helped, just a mite, to smooth the great fabric of humanity. Mom and the weaver were friends to the end. Mom's reality was she loved you and believed in your value as a person. She wanted to know all about your kids, where you grew up, what you considered important, and if you were from Kansas City or Tucson-or knew anyone from Kansas City or Tucson. During the past two years, she asked if you knew anybody from San Pedro. She just wanted to know. Oh, and one last thing. As a perennial student of literary technique, at the end she chose irony. Cause of death: head trauma. You were right, Mom. So many things can go wrong but it's a beautiful world. We love you. Survivor's include her sons, their families, extended families, grandkids, great-grandkids, cousins, nieces, and nephews: Michael, Jay, Paul, Melissa, Sheila, Sheila, Mason, Adam, Lizzy, Heather, Henri, Jasper, Lili, Liam, Anna, Scott, Lisa, Laurie, Jan, Julia, Fran, Joe, Mark, Debby, Michael, Susan, Laura, Jake, Jody, Valerie, and Vicki. As Mom requested, no services are planned. The family will sprinkle Barb's and Leonard's ashes together in Puget Sound. We would be honored by any contribution to Harbor Interfaith Services, San Pedro, CA, Trinity Care Hospice, Torrence, CA, or SARSEF, Tucson, AZ.
