4 responses to “Ivy Steinmetz, z”l – Update”

  1. Josie Teodosijeva

    For the Stienmetz/Tansman family,

    The O'Brien family sends their condolences for the loss of Ivy, your beautiful wife, sister, and mother. May the memories of her uniqueness, her grace, her beauty and the ways that she loved you carry each one of you through your grief. The image we will remember is the Ivy of our youth, vital and enduring. God bless, Josie

  2. Robin Axelrod

    The world has lost a beautiful soul. Ivy was a dear, dear person truly loved by all who were fortunate to know her. May her family find comfort and strength among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem and may Ivy's name forever be a blessing.

    Our love to Barb, Howard, and their loving family.

    -Brad and Robin Axelrod

  3. Michelle Hurd Riddic

    Rabbi Marc, Please embrace Barb and Howard for me. Please tell them how very sorry I am for their loss and pain and how sorry I am for never having known Ivy. Knowing Barb and Howard the world surely is less birght with the passing of one of their own. I shall light a candle both nights and join the family in spirit and friendship.

    Michelle Hurd Riddick

    Saginaw MI

  4. yehudis

    Dedicated to Ivy Tansman, of blessed memory,sister of Julie Shaffer and daughter of Barb and Howard Steinmetz.

    Boulder Walks

    Community gardens and mountain graves-

    My favorite spots for autumn strolls,

    circling clods of life and death,

    colliding contradictions

    beneath billowing clouds.

    Gardens and graves,

    underground caves to a freedom

    just beyond earthbound speed bumps.

    Gardens and graves-

    unencumbered by jealous eyes,

    ready to rupture virgin soil.

    I love the shape, the placid curve

    of these furrows-

    pillows filled with magic,

    fevered agitation

    below immobile ground.

    Gardens and graves-

    grassy brows concealing fertile soul.

    Mr. Motto plays poker in a smoke-filled room,

    stakes too deep and plots too thick to guess

    what teems beneath the surface.

    Under similar slices of wondering bread

    are we not all distinctive, fidgety fillings,

    oozing relentlessly from rigid edges?

    Gardens and graves-

    Below slumbering lids,

    a tranquil eye belies volcanic dreams.

    We all drift off in our private rooms

    with our forms still prone to fluttering.

    We are after all snow angels oscillating

    Between these mirrored mounds.