“Shetizku livnos bayis ne’eman b’Yisrael – May you merit to build a loyal Jewish home.” It’s the ultimate bracha at a vort, a chasana, and a bris. But do those of us who receive this blessing fully appreciate the ko’ach (power) within it? This article is in tribute to a woman whose upbringing would not have foretold the fulfillment of this beautiful bracha. It was through her life decisions that the bracha’s power came into full force and was actualized in her progeny.
It is my privilege to pay homage to my mother-in-law, Dena Lerner Gerber a’h, an ardent WIT student, a devoted member of Suburban Orthodox, and a dedicated volunteer with Meals on Wheels until her passing on March 10, 2019 at the age of 92. Woven into the fabric of the Baltimore Jewish community, Dena Lerner Gerber was zochah to be an actively involved matriarch of four generations of “batim ne’emanim b’Yisrael”.
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Mom, you will recall that in 2013, WIT (Women’s Institute of Torah), wanted to honor you as “Student of the Year.” You declined the honor as you felt unworthy and insisted that there were surely more deserving women. As it turned out, you only agreed to be honored when you learned that I was also being asked. So, as a duo, we both accepted the honor. The program described you perfectly: “Dena is an active participant in all WIT programs. Her desire to learn and grow is infectious and trickles down to her entire family.” It was based on this infectiousness that I was inspired to attend WIT programs and classes. I became a part of the WIT family solely because you convinced me to try it, and “I liked it!”
Fast forward to this past July. Although I looked forward to Summer Wednesdays at WIT, I struggled to picture myself sitting in class without you by my side. Neither my mind nor my heart could fathom such a scenario. But I knew you would be proud if I attended, and once I took my seat I was not surprised to feel you “in attendance” as well, sitting next to me, as you always did.
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My mother-in-law, Dena (Imber) Lerner Gerber, was truly ageless. In her earlier years, she dreaded anyone knowing how old she was. As she got older (then much older), she wore the mantel family matriarch, although she did not like that title. Nevertheless, Grandma Dena carried the mantel with humble pride and a profound sense of gratitude for all of her blessings.
I was never a “daughter-in-law.” I was always loved and treated like a daughter – the daughter she never had. Whenever we went somewhere together, she always introduced me as “This is my daughter, Arleeta.” When my husband was sitting shiva, I was the mourner-without-a-chair. I was not the only one. Many in the family felt this way: left out of the formal Jewish practice of mourning the loss of a close relative through sitting shiva. We, as extended family, had to process our loss on our own, working through the disbelief, sorrow, sadness, and deep sense of loss. It still is inconceivable that Grandma Dena is no longer here. That’s because, in reality, she is here. She is so very much with all of us at every moment, every hour and every day.
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Grandma Dena’s father, Leon Imber (Yehuda Leib) was sent to America from Poland with his younger sister Ida when they were 14 and 12 respectively. Their parents wanted to protect them from the growing anti-Semitism and pogroms of Eastern Europe. Leon married, and Dena was the second of her parents’ four children. Her mother, Pauline (Pesha) Vinnick, was American-born. The Imbers owned a poultry store in East Baltimore.
In 1945, Dena married Joe Lerner, a veteran of World War II, who was among the soldiers who stormed the beaches at Normandy. My husband Ivan was their only child. Joe worked for Levinson and Klein as a furniture salesman. Dena worked for a candy company (Mary Sue) and later for Marlenn, a deodorizer firm. At Marlenn, she became a successful sales representative and eventually a sales manager. She was sent all over the world to procure and cultivate accounts.
When my husband was of school age, my mother-in-law decided he needed a school with a higher quality education than the local public school in their not-so-good neighborhood of east Baltimore. She enrolled him in Beth Tfiloh. Following Beth Tfiloh, she felt that TA would be a better fit as both he and she were both becoming more involved with Judaism. Although my father-in-law was not altogether on board in terms of Jewish observance, he respected his wife and son’s Jewish growth. Even though he worked on Saturdays, when he came home, he would not turn on the TV or do anything deliberate to violate Shabbos. (A few years following our wedding in 1967, Dena and Joe amicably divorced. It has occurred to me that perhaps her newfound worldliness, given her job status and travel, might have been a factor in my in-laws growing apart.)
One of the major factors in my mother-in-law’s growth in Judaism was attending classes at Liberty Jewish Center. In addition, a major influence on my husband’s professional rabbinic skills was Rabbi Jacob Max, LJC’s rabbi. My husband and Grandma Dena spent many Shabbos meals at the home of “Bubby Max” (Rabbi Max’s mother) and as they grew closer to her, they also grew closer to traditional Jewish observance.
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After her second husband, Nachman Gerber, died, Dena sold their house in Cockeysville and moved to Upper Park Heights, within a few blocks of her grandsons, Ari and Daniel and their families. She was excited to be closer to them and eager to once again walk to a shul, something that was impossible in Cockeysville. The shul she joined was Suburban Orthodox. Rabbi Shmuel Silber, a talmid chacham, brilliant speaker, and teacher, won her heart and mind. There was a “running joke” between her and her eldest grandson, Daniel. “Grandma, who do you love more? Rabbi Silber or me?” he would ask.
After my mother-in-law passed away, I assumed the job – actually, the privilege – of clearing out her condo. It was a heart-heavy task. However, each time I went there, the emotional weight was lighter (although the shlepping was not.) As I plowed through towels, linens, tablecloths, pots, pans, and dishes, etc., I felt a connection that spoke to me in the ordinary as well as the extraordinary sense. It didn’t feel like clutter. It felt like a story needing to be told. I hope our family and I can tell that story.
In this process of clearing out, I was able to savor her life because I truly saw what she held dear and what meant the most to her. She saved every single note, card, even the little mini-cards that came with flowers. These saved cards, which came from anyone and everyone, showed how much she truly valued each person in her life, family or not.
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Everyone in our family over the age of four had a genuine relationship with Grandma Dena. In August 2018, my husband traveled with her to Israel for the wedding of one of her great-granddaughters, Chaya Lerner. It was an event made all the more joyous by her presence. Who would not be thrilled to have their mother/grandmother/great-grandmother/great-great-grandmother with them at a family simcha! On this trip, several of the children born subsequent to her previous visit to Israel, were beyond delighted to meet the legendary Grandma Dena! She, in turn, was over the moon to meet the new additions to her growing family for the first time. Our Israeli children always kept in touch with her over the many years and miles, often sending photos along with their letters. How exciting it was when she saw them in person and was not only able to recognize them but also what a thrill it was for the children when she called them by name!
Being in close proximity to family was a treat for Grandma Dena. No one enjoyed or laughed harder at our children’s jokes and expressions of humor than she. Always the perfect audience, even when anything shared would elicit groans from the rest of us, Grandma Dena relished every minute, no matter how absurd, ridiculous or off-the-wall it was!”
How the memories rush in!
While most of the adult members of our clan avoided – any excuse would do – being the licensed driver in the car with a Lerner “learner,” Great-grandma Dena was there, on the scene, raring to go! Any time the kids asked her to accompany them in order to rack up their necessary driving hours, she seized the opportunity. Shayna Lerner, one of her great-granddaughters, recounted, “I’ll never forget that you took me to learn how to drive when I had my driver’s permit, leading me onto the curvy roads all the way out Park Heights Avenue to Owings Mills. I was uneasy about the winding roads, but you encouraged me to keep going as it was good practice. I also remember, during one of our sessions driving down a narrow one-way street. I was nervous that I would hit the cars parked on my right and left. You wisely told me, ‘Shayna, if they make the street this way, then the cars have to fit, and you shouldn’t worry.’ I always think of you when I drive down Shelburne Road.”
Great-granddaughter-in-law, Sara Tova (Snider) Miller, shared this: “Grandma Dena, you were the first relative I met from the Miller-Lerner mishpacha. At that time you had your leg in a cast, following a recent hip operation. Yet I never met such a happy woman. Every time we went to visit you, I would be engulfed by your warmth, and I felt like a million dollars from all the compliments and hugs you showered on me. The last words you said to me were, ‘I love you more.’ I feel so privileged to have been able to meet you and to have had such a warm and welcoming relationship.”
Granddaughter-in-law Shoshana Lerner wrote from her heart: “Whenever we were all together for a meal, I relished watching your face beam with the light of pure and holy nachas from your family. I’d always think of Psalm 128 in those moments, which describes the woman as being like a fruitful vine, and her children like olive shoots around the table. Shoshana continues, saying that Grandma Dena took pride in her olive shoots, in ways we will never completely understand, and those olive shoots looked up to and loved her in return.
As for myself, I continue to appreciate Grandma Dena more fully and clearly through her progeny. Her resilience, strength, kindness, sense of giving to the community, perseverance, and ability to encourage others while respecting their space and privacy are reflected in their personal middos and actions.
At the funeral home, we stood silently together in the family room, each of us deep in thought, grief, and contemplation. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a young man who I assumed was one of the funeral home’s employees, all of whom were professional, warm, and thoughtful. It struck me, as my peripheral vision allowed, that this young man bore a clear resemblance to our oldest grandson, Yosef Miller, who lives in Los Angeles. When I turned, I saw that it was indeed Yosef! I fell on him in a full embrace and whispered. “Yosef, when did you get here?”
“This morning Grandma; I took the red eye.” As soon as he heard of his great-grandmother’s passing, he booked a flight.
Dena must have been smiling. She rarely lived in anything but the present, despite challenges and setbacks in her life. In all of her interactions, whether at shul, attending classes, giving back to community, spending time with family, she was truly present. Yosef came to honor his great-grandmother, by being present: showing up. No fanfare, no “noise.” He learned well from his Grandma Dena.
Our youngest son, Rabbi Michoel Lerner, spoke to his grandmother, in a letter that he wrote to her after her passing: “Chazal tell us that when the righteous leave this world, they set aside their own needs and busy themselves with the needs of others. What can I say about you Grandma, whose entire life was like the righteous who leave this world?”
Arleeta Lerner is an educator at The Torah school of Greater Washington and is presently writing a book about her late mother-in-law.
