My dad died yesterday at 4:15. I was with him when it happened. He
was in hospice in the sunny living room of his Brooklyn Heights
apartment on the 27th floor with its view of the Manhattan skyline he adored.
For most of the day he moaned softly. At 3:45 or so, my sister
played one of his favorite records, scratches and all, on the
phonograph: Kinderszenen or Scenes from Childhood by Robert Schumann.
I know he loved that piece because just three weeks ago we listened intently to this LP in his bedroom.
Just before he died he had
three labored breaths. But there was no fear, no panic in his eyes.
Monte Ghertler, legendary advertising copywriter and creative director, author, songwriter, connoisseur of art, literature, music, philosophy, birdwatching, opera, and thoroughbred horse racing, died peacefully in his Brooklyn Heights home on September 7, 2008 surrounded by loving family members. Devoted husband of Hillary, father of Louise and Caroline, father-in-law of Hugh Crawford and Jeffrey Jacobson, grandfather of Henry and Alice Crawford and Sonya Jacobson, Cousin of Joan Fisher and former husband of Edna ghertler, Monte leaves behind many family, friends, and admirers who will never forget his way with words, his intellect and many interests, his love of books and music, his great sense of humor and his irresistible personality.
Photo of my dad taken by me at the New Greek and Roman Galleries at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in September 2007.
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
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
I’m so sorry to hear about this, Louise. My condolences to you all.
Beautiful, beautiful picture.
Sorry for your loss, Louise.
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
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.”
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.
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.
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
Louise, my deepest condolences to you and your family. What a gift your dad sounds to have been to all who knew him (and how blessed he was by his family, too). That photo says so much; curious, skeptical, humorous, fully alive and enmeshed in the city he loved. I would love to have known him. My prayers are with you.
My sorrow and sadness is with all of you: Louise, Caroline and Hillary – He was lovely, compassionate, sweet and very funny man – A generation is gone – but never, ever forgotten – With love – Amy Luria
My condolences to you & your family. What a moving tribute. I’m thinking about all of you.
very sorry to hear about your loss. he sounds like a wonderful man. thank you for being so open – it’s appreciated. let us know if you need anything…
I am so sorry for your loss and wish you all the best through these difficult times. Thank you for sharing as much as you do about your life and family with all of us. Your father sounds like an amazing person and the world is a better place because of his legacy.