Pajama Pants and Flowers
Out of poverty and potato skins and pogroms, my family has flourished. I hope my grandfather, Popoo Benny, can see all that he helped to create.
My grandfather’s name was Benjamin Goodowitz, warmly referred to as “Popoo Benny.” Popoo Benny was my grandfather on my mother’s side. He was born into a large family in Ulla, Russia. He came to the United States through Ellis Island when he was a teenager. Poverty in his childhood was an understatement. He used to share stories about how poor his family was while living in Russia during the pogroms. Sometimes a potato skin from someone’s trash was dinner.
Popoo was one of eight children. When they came through Ellis Island, many of the kids were given different last names. The original name was Hutkowitz. Popoo was given the last name of Goodowitz, while his brothers had names such as Hunter, Gudwin, and the likes. In spite of many difficulties during his childhood, Popoo Benny was probably one of the most grateful, appreciative, and happy men on the planet.
When Popoo was in his late teens, he went to a weekend getaway with some of his friends in upstate New York. There he met a young woman named Fannie Schreter, who later became my grandmother. Grandma Fannie was also an immigrant, but she was from Sighet, Hungary, (now known as Transylvania in Romania). Fannie was also in her late teens and was drawn to Benny. The two fell in love, dated for a few years, then married. They moved to Dyckman Street in NYC, and borrowed money from Popoo’s older brother, Frank, who had made a large sum of money in real estate by that time, to purchase a paint store. The couple had three daughters: Ina, Barbara, and Sandra. Sandra is my mom.
The paint store occupied most of Fannie and Benny’s time. Their older daughters, Ina and Barbara, were teenagers but my mother, little Sandy, was a latchkey child. She often came home after school to an empty home. I wonder how Sandy would have been different later in life, if she’d had a typical stay-at-home mom? Fannie and Benny were extremely hard workers longing to achieve success and the American Dream. Popoo Benny was a warm and fuzzy type of guy, extremely easy going and kind to everyone who knew him. He had a perpetual smile on his face that was contagious. Fannie was more subdued yet loving. Years later when Grandma Fannie was in her 50’s, she was diagnosed with a brain tumor on her pituitary gland causing her eye to close shut.
As a little girl, I remember feeling nervous around Grandma Fannie. After her diagnosis, Popoo and Grandma moved into our home in New Jersey so that my mom could help care for her mother. At the time, I thought they were so old, but now I realize they were just a year or two older than I am today as I write this. It’s amazing how our perspective of age changes as we get older.
I never remember hearing Popoo complain about his situation. He was grateful and happy. To him, taking care of his ailing wife was something he did as part of his fierce commitment to his family. Today, pituitary tumors are removed with a procedure where the surgeon goes through the nose to remove the tumor. Simple, clean,effective. But back then, the surgery that Grandma Fannie needed was much more invasive and complex. The prognosis was not promising. Years later, Grandma passed away, leaving her loving husband Benny, a widower, and her family, heartbroken.
Our family moved from New Jersey to Florida a few years after Fannie passed. Popoo Benny moved in with us temporarily. Never complaining, he was always grateful for our family and the love that he shared with us. He was proud of his grandchildren, his daughter, and his son-in-law. Sandy, his baby girl, was the apple of his eye.
After a while, Popoo Benny decided it was time to gain his own independence and moved to Miami Beach. He made friends, went dancing, went out to dinners and shows, and paraded his grandchildren around his neighbors with pride when we came to visit. Later, Popoo Benny met a woman named Helen. They became inseparable and lived out their last years together in a loving courtship.
Popoo Benny had 14 grandchildren. I am one of them.
I was seventeen when my grandfather died. I came home after school with my friend Cheryl to find my dad very solemn. He told us the devastating news of his passing. I never got the chance to say goodbye to Popoo Benny while he was in the hospital. I was too busy being a seventeen-year-old who was obsessed with her new “puppy love” boyfriend and not her grandfather. I have always felt terrible about that.
When we went down to clean out Popoo’s apartment, I had a pit in my stomach. I saw a pair of brand new men’s pajamas with the tags on them. I wore those pajama pants for years and thought of Popoo when I wore them. They made me feel close to him. Over the years, I have given away bags of old clothes. But even though I don’t wear those pajama pants anymore because the elastic got all stretched out after years of wear, they will remain in my pajama drawer forever.
I wish Popoo could see how his family has grown. He would be so proud of his great-grandchildren and great great ones too. I wish he could see the beautiful fall flowers that I just got. I picture him walking around the patio with his hands clasped behind his back commenting in his heavy Russian accent about their beauty. I hope he knows how loved he was by his family, his three daughters, and his sons-in-law, particularly, my own father. Out of poverty and potato skins and pogroms, his family has flourished. I hope Popoo Benny can see all that he helped to create.
