Comments on: Monte Ghertler 1929-2008: We Love You

By: andrew

andrew — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 02:42:15 +0000

Dear Louise 9A
I am sorry for the sad loss of Monte.
I have warm memories of a trip or two in the little Austin Healey and tossing a
football around with him (badly I fear on my part.)
Since I have made my career as an ad man of sorts I
think of him with appreciation from time to time.
I hope you and your family are doing well,
Considering. Please send both regards and condolences to Caroline and Edna.
Andrew 8C

By: Gilly Youner

Gilly Youner — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 15:43:06 +0000

what a sweet photo, he looks like such a sweet man.
I know its been a tough year, and I’m so glad to hear you were with him at the end. Love, and more hugs later, Gilly

By: udge

udge — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 09:28:01 +0000

I’m so sorry to hear about this, Louise. My condolences to you all.

By: red eft

red eft — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 07:37:09 +0000

Beautiful, beautiful picture.

By: Rob Lenihan

Rob Lenihan — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 04:40:08 +0000

Sorry for your loss, Louise.

By: Ronni

Ronni — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 23:20:41 +0000

Louise,
I am so sorry to hear about your loss. I visit your blog often and have commiserated from afar, your middle school crises. I went thru the middle school process virtually alongside you. My dad died 21 years ago and while I don’t feel the pain as intensely today as I did 21 years ago I still miss him. I think about the lifecycles he wasn’t here to be a part of and how much my husband is like him and my kids would adore him. Hold onto your memories, in time your dad will find the perfect spot in your heart and your head.
My sympathies

By: Daniel Meeter

Daniel Meeter — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 22:43:01 +0000

Wow, sweetheart. I’m sorry. How much you loved him. But you made the right decisions about hospice and hospice at home.
Kinderzenen. I love it. Like Isaac Watts’ version of Psalm 23: “There would I find a settled rest, while others go and come, no more a stranger or a guest, but like a child at home.”

By: Harriet M. Welsch

Harriet M. Welsch — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 19:34:26 +0000

Today is the first anniversary of my grandmother’s death. She died last year while under the wonderful care of humane hospice nurses. Your post yesterday touched me deeply this morning, as I was thinking about her. We, as a culture, more than many others, are afraid of death. We tend to ignore it. But through my grandmother and the nurses, my family learned that death is as much a part of living as birth. By bringing it into our homes instead of shuttering it away in a building for the dying and walking away, it put death back into perspective and made us feel more connected with one another. My sincere condolences on the loss of your father.

By: dan

dan — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 19:04:35 +0000

Louise,
First, you have my sincerest condolences to you and your family. Clearly your father was a tremendous person and father given children are a reflection of their parents (a sometimes daunting thought as a parent).
Losing a parent is an incredibly difficult, life changing event. This is such an obvious, cliche’d thing it sounds stupid, but in the details of caring and arranging things, it gets lost in the trauma of it all. You are so right about how death of a loved one who is older mimics birth. They are overwhelming, messy and transcendent experiences.
A big thank you for writing about the hospice experience – more people need to know about them – its such an infinitely better and more humane way of caring for a loved one at the end of their lives – I’ve experienced the passing of loved ones in hospital settings and at home and it’s so much better at home with hospice. Your story is touching.
Finally, know that your father’s spirit lives on through you and your family.
Bless your father, you and your entire family.

By: Varda Ducovny

Varda Ducovny — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 18:47:44 +0000

I feel very sad. Monte was the friend my late husband most loved, and I can understand why. September 7 is my birthday and it will always be tinged with melancholy, remembering that your father is gone. Varda