Travis Eneix

I got back a few days ago from a trip to New York, and Martha’s Vineyard. The trip was not the happy-go-lucky vacation my wife (Daisy), and I, had planned. Every year we go to New York city to visit with her parents. Her mother lives on the upper East side of Manhattan, and her father and his family live in balmy Brooklyn. We bought the tickets back in July. Normally that is when we go to the East Coast, but this year the events of life changed our plans, and in hind sight that was rightly so.

Normally we also go to Martha’s Vineyard during these trips to visit Daisy’s mother’s parents, Herman and Nina. Herman passed away in 2003, and Nina’s health had been declining over the last years. I have not been able to make the last two years visit with Nina, but Daisy has. I’ve been able to enjoy phone conversations with Nina, which are always challenging because of her speech being obstructed by a stroke she suffered some years ago, but also always rewarding because she was such an extraordinary woman.

A few months ago Nina was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She was not given long to live. Daisy visited Nina, life kept me at home. Daisy told me that Nina said that she was, “ready to go.” Nina had lived a long, and eventful life, and she knew it.

A week before our scheduled trip to NY, Nina had another stroke. She was non-responsive and had left orders not to be kept on life support. She was fading. We changed Daisy’s ticket and she left a week ahead of time. Nina passed peacefully on September the 8th.

Daisy met me in New York, and we went together back to Martha’s Vineyard to plan the memorial. Daisy was incredibly driven to do right by her grandmother, and that she did. Early on in the process, before I even flew out to meet her, she realized that Nina, and the service, were not exclusively hers or the families. She stayed up long ours making up to 60 phone calls a day (none of them simple or short) to all of Nina’s extended and extensive circle of friends. I mostly stayed present as a ready assistant, and leaped in where and when Daisy required. In five days Daisy got 70 people set to show up, cleaned the house, made five photo albums, collected a dozen of the books Nina has written or collaborated with Herman on, got bouquets made from Nina’s amazing and magical garden, arranged caterers and chair rentals (this was the area I helped out most), invited people to speak and put together an event Nina would have loved. While we worked inside the house, Zada Clarke (Nina’s gardener for the last 13 years) got the garden into true Nina style.

On the day of it all came together. People shared about there memories of these two amazing people, enjoyed fabulous Pomegranate Iced Tea and Canapes, and commiserated. I lost count of the number of people who told me what an amazing service it was. That was as it should have been. Nina & Herman deserved the best send off they could get, and their friends deserved the best closure possible.

Memorials are for the living. They allow us to find peace and reason for a painful loss, and to put that loss into a chapter of life rather than leaving a gaping hole. Both the living, and the dead, have the right to completion.

For my part I will most miss two people who had their own unique lusts for life. Herman showed me how unending and burning curiosity can keep your spirit young and your mind razor sharp even as your body fails. Nina taught me a true appreciation of the works of Shakespeare in specific, and the power and grace of literature in general. I will miss them both, but I will honor their gifts by continuing them.

Nina got an obituary in the New York Times yesterday, and you can read it here. Another, lovely obituary was posted in the Martha’s Vineyard Gazette which you can see here.

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