I always dreaded the idea of writing this week’s column because I knew I would eventually have to.
Since I have always been very open and honest about my life with readers and fans of The Programming Insider, it is with tremendous sadness to report on the passing of my beloved mother, Sheila Berman, who defines the definition of the word survivor. She was one of a kind, an absolute inspiration, a wonderful grandmother and a light that will shine in my heart forever.
If my mother’s life was the basis of a TV show, I would have shaken my head in horror, immediately suggesting that the writers were off their rockers. How could one person lose both parents by the time she was 25; lose her first born, Jeffrey, when he was only 22; her sister, Roberta, also at a young age; and her husband of five decades, also without absolutely any warning? How could someone like this find the strength to even go on?
But forge ahead she did. Despite the many obstacles, my beautiful and vivacious mother never stopped looking for ways to fill her life with happiness. She was a magnet who people naturally gravitated to. And she called it like it was. What was on her lung was on her tongue, but people admired her for it. They loved her dearly. And she was the richest woman in the world because of the people who stood in line wanting to be with her. If you put Sheila Berman on the moon, she would make life-long friends.
Back in the kinder, gentler old days, I used to tease my mother and refer to her as Mrs. Morgenstern, who was Nancy Walker as Rhoda’s mother on The Mary Tyler Moore Show and spin-off Rhoda. Like Ida Morgenstern, Sheila Berman loved to nag and feed her offspring. There was never any shortage of food or guilt when my Mrs. Morgenstern was around.
Mom was tall and commanding and people often commented that she reminded them of Bea Arthur as Maude Findlay in Maude. But she was a stylish lady and she did not, thank heavens, walk around with those groovy cover-ups Maude used to wear to hide her sizable hips.
If there was a third part to my mother’s TV persona, it would be how she sounded very much like Fran Drescher, who lived around the corner from us in that cluttered neighborhood in Flushing, Queens. I can just see her looking at me now and angrily asking, “What are you talking about?” Mom always knew best in the Berman household.
I have a mountain of memories about my mother that I will never forget. Like the time I called Mom out the blue and asked her to play hooky with me. So we both called in sick at work and we took a ride upstate to see the old bungalow colony we used to go to in the summer when I was a kid. I also fondly remember when I was about to get engaged and Mom and I went into the city to go to the jewelry district to buy the ring. I was going to marry a Berman…how could she not be happy?
And I vividly recall the time when I rode my bicycle to the local pizza place on Main Street to pick up a pie and a few heroes. Mom gave me a sack to attach to the handlebars to carry the heroes and somehow they ended up getting squeezed around the front wheel. I wasn’t sure how she was going react to a meatball hero with tire tracks on it, but she looked and me and declared, “We’ll eat it anyway. We don’t waste food in this household.”
More recently, we enjoyed sitting together at tapings of The View and The Martha Stewart Show.
Not every memory, of course, has a positive connection. At the top of the list were those long, brutal nights when we sat into the wee hours talking about my brother Jeffrey, who had just passed. Had it not been for Sheila Berman, my father and I would have each crawled into our beds and never gotten up. But she was determined to move on. No matter how many times Mom was knocked down, she would always get up fighting.
Mom’s passing is particularly painful for me because the original Berman family of four is now just me.
But I take great comfort in knowing this larger-than-life personality, Sheila Berman, has been reunited with her loved ones. So now it is time for Robert and Jeffrey Berman to be nagged and fed again. Mrs. Morgenstern…I love you. I will miss you. And I will always cherish the memories.
A very nice tribute, Marc. I truly am sorry for your loss. I trust that some of her survivor instincts have been passed on to you, along with the many special memories.
What a great lady! (I've always wondered whether she might be the 'Sheila' who could always be trusted to rile Gee in the early days of this site.) Nice to have you back, Marc.
Thank you, saraday. And she sure has. It has not always been easy, but I keep moving forward.
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Originally posted by saraday: A very nice tribute, Marc. I truly am sorry for your loss. I trust that some of her survivor instincts have been passed on to you, along with the many special memories.
No...but she was very much like that. She called it as she say it...always.
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Originally posted by SW: What a great lady! (I've always wondered whether she might be the 'Sheila' who could always be trusted to rile Gee in the early days of this site.) Nice to have you back, Marc.
