My Bubby

Remembering my Bubby who passed away last week.

Last Thursday night, the fifth night of Chanukah, my beloved Bubby, Sarah Kahanov, passed away. She was such a queen and it’s only fitting she left us at such an auspicious time: Erev Shabbos, the fifth night of Chanukah.

The timing did not allow me to make it to the funeral, and with an upcoming family reunion planned for this weekend, I’m not even able to fly to New York for the shiva. My mother will be spending her last day of shiva with all of us in Texas. It’s very hard, and uncomfortable, not to be in New York with my cousins, aunts, and uncles celebrating my Bubby’s incredible life.

So I’m going to take the time to immerse myself in my memories and share some of them with you. It’s a tall order, as there are so many, and yet at the same time, where do I even begin to tell you about the woman she was and what she meant to me?

My Bubby grew up in Montreal in a family that wasn’t Chabad, but when she married my grandfather, who did come from a Chabad family, they moved to Crown Heights in the middle of their Sheva Brachos. My Bubby embraced the Lubavitch lifestyle, and shortly thereafter was handpicked by the Rebbe to be the head of N’shei Chabad. The Rebbe saw how devoted and capable she was and knew she was the right person for the job.

I’ve never met someone with a stronger work ethic. From as far back as I can remember, she worked as a teacher at Magen David Yeshiva, a Syrian Jewish day school. She would teach all day, come home around 5:00 PM, make dinner, then grade papers, tend to the house, and care for all the people living in it.

After her own children were out of the house with families of their own, many of the grandchildren who lived in places with no Jewish schools would come to Brooklyn and live in her home for years at a time. She took care of her grandchildren, often stepping in as Mommy, long after she could have been done with that stage of her life.

I myself lived there in sixth grade for six months. I was trying to live away from home to attend Beis Rivkah. It didn’t end up being the school for me, but I remember being so loved and taken care of during that time.

My Bubby made the best pea soup ever. She made it in a pressure cooker, the old-fashioned kind, not the Instant Pot of today. One time, something went wrong and bright green pea soup shot up like a geyser out of the top of the pot. There was nothing to do at that point; we just had to watch it play out and then spend the rest of the night cleaning pea soup out of every nook and cranny in the kitchen. I will never forget it.

My Bubby always had the best advice, usually delivered in these incredible one-liners that went straight to the heart of the issue. For example, she would say, “Wherever you go, there you are.” Or when we were slaving away to get ready for Pesach, the Holiday of Freedom, we’d finally arrive at the Seder wiped out, and she would say, “They forgot to free the women!!” Only someone so grounded and connected to Hashem could say something like that in such good humor.

We would visit my grandparents every winter during our two-week vacation from school. When I think about that time, I remember how loved we felt. All of us kids would cozy together and sleep on the floor in my grandparents’ room, totally invading their space, but we never felt out of place. It’s only now, looking back, that I think, “Omg that’s incredible.”

Every once in a while, I tagged along with her to Magen David, where she taught, and I would feel like a celebrity. I was Sarah Kahanov’s granddaughter!

Her hospitality was unmatched. She always had people over who had nowhere else to go. Her younger brother, who lived with mental health challenges, lived with her for his entire life, until he passed away a few years ago. She took care of him like nobody else could.

I truly could go on and on.

She was physically small (she sat on a pillow to reach the steering wheel), but she was GIANT in stature.

She left such a vibrant legacy, with hundreds of grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and she even merited to have great-great-grandchildren. We all felt so loved and unconditionally accepted by her. We have so much to emulate.

Bubby, you loved life and fought so hard to stay alive until the very end. You did it. You lived life to the fullest, and now you can be without pain. You are a queen. I’m sure you are reveling in the legacy you created and advocating for us on high, just like you did down here.

I will always try to make you proud. I love you. ❤️

Chavie
(Chava’le to her)