Susan Weiner
I’m happy to be here tonight to share my experience on the difference that Jewish Federation and JFCS made in my life and in the lives of others like me. On November 26, 2012, the Monday after Thanksgiving weekend, I went to work as I had on so many Mondays before this week. At around 10:30 in the morning, as I sat at my desk, my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number and didn’t answer. The number left a message, which I clicked on.
The caller identified himself as a detective from Cherry Hill. He left a number to call back. I closed my door and called back. In the next few seconds, nothing about my life would ever be the same. Suddenly, my son Joel – my smart, loving, funny, handsome son – was gone.
The next minutes, hours, and days were a blur. I counted the days, weeks, and months in disbelief. I found no one understood, even as kind as they were. I felt alone, as if I were in a glass box where I could see everyone, and they could see me, but we couldn’t touch. Spring came, renewal. I went to Yizkor and asked Rabbi Frenkel if she knew of a Jewish support group. I knew I needed help. She said she didn’t but she would let me know if she had heard about one, and she did.
There was a group soon starting through JFCS. I called immediately. The day came, and I nervously walked into the conference room. There were seven other mothers, probably as nervous as I was, and each grieving the daughter of a daughter or a son, different ages, different causes. It didn’t matter. Soon, the stories started to spill out. In that first meeting, we quickly understood that we had found a safe place – a place of comfort, belonging, and understanding. We could take a breath. Our facilitator was gentle and skilled, and as the weeks passed, we comforted each other.
At the end of the eight weeks, we realized that others in our position wouldn’t be provided the same gift. Together with two other moms, Eve and Carole, and support from JFCS, we were able to create a foundation we called “Sharing and Healing While Mourning our Children.” This group continues to help the healing process for those parents in our community who are suffering such a devastating loss.
We are ever grateful for the kindness, support, and understanding JFCS continues to provide. It is a gift.
Eve Bandler
Hello. I’m Eve Bandler, Matthew’s mom. Matthew went to TBS preschool and kindergarten, Kellman, Cherry Hill East, and Rutgers. In the summer after Matthew’s freshman year, while a JCC camp counselor, we found ourselves at CHOP, with two oncologists telling us that Matthew had a rare pediatric cancer, for which there’s no known cure. But they would do their best. They showed us images of his body. My boy’s body was riddled with cancer.
A year earlier, Matthew needed my permission to play volleyball at East. Yet no one asked my permission for this. A dreadful year later, we were at Platt’s, selecting Matthew’s casket.
Losing a child is more horrific than one can dare to imagine. So, it’s also a lonely place. There were weeks in which I sat in a chair, unable to move, speak or eat. Or I’d drive to a secluded spot, park and scream. Life became an endurance test.
I called every synagogue in the area, hoping one had a support group for bereaved parents. Nothing. I went to secular groups, inevitably dominated by Christian women, rituals and beliefs. I left those feeling more alone.
Then I was introduced to Carole, Jamie’s mom. She and I agreed to finance an eight-week support group, JFCS advertised it, and a full group signed-up.
The support group changed everything. I knew it the moment I entered the room. There was a group of equally broken and traumatized Jewish women in the room, including Susan. Plus, a Jewish facilitator. I was home. And I was no longer alone.
Together, Susan, Carole and I created a Foundation, fundraised, and with JFCS, created this program. Since then, there have been eight groups and more than 65 people served. Now, no one in our community is forced to endure this nightmare alone.
Thanks to all of you, the support groups continue to this day.
