Childhood memories with FREDA

Aug. 2, 2006 

Phone conversation with Freda recalling my childhood.   

 - by Joy Krauthammer              reviewed 2019 upon death of Freda

I have just gotten off the phone after 90 minutes with Freda (Rutenberg) Genberg, former neighbor who used to live down the other end of 190th St. in Hollis, Queens, NY from us Meltons until we moved in 1970 or they moved earlier. Former neighbor and dear friend Lilian Weissman got Freda's phone number for me. 

Freda's daughter, Sheila, was my young playmate and we used to dance in her basement to Dick Clarke's American Bandstand when we were about 10 years. Freda was my wonderful Brownie leader. She made a beautiful little red coat for my favorite rubber doll, Tiny. Really careless, I left my little rubber beloved doll on the radiator in my bedroom. Later the radiator was turned on. (As an adult, I do not like seeing radiators.)

Thankfully, probably because of Freda, I got to go to Girl Scout camp for two weeks, my only camp experience as a child. (My family for 2-3 years belonged to Little Neck Country Club--several miles away-- so that we could swim as a family and have a summer activity. Later my parents joined the Hillcrest Jewish Center when I was in High School, so that I could swim in the summer in their indoor pool. (I still love swimming.)

I met one guy in the pool (Perlman) who I went out with once. 

One summer when I was in grade school, I was signed up for camp days at P.S. 178. The entire day was only gardening in the hot sun and getting red punch to drink, at the school.  (As an adult, I continue to love gardening.)

In the 4th grade I recall that I was allowed to stay after school for an art event. I loved tearing colored sheets of construction paper and making a collage. This made me very happy. (As an adult I still love paper tearing art projects.)

Freda, now almost 87, which would have been my mom's age, lives in Deerfield, Florida and was happy to hear from me, all these decades later. It is 36 years since Faye and I had our Queens house sold out from under us by our father. We were on the first street north of major Union Turnpike and a block south beyond Fresh Meadows, another school district. 

Freda clearly remembered me and said that she could visualize me as I was in her house. She was happy to talk to me and answer questions. Forgetful, she repeated a few times, about her daughter's phone number. I called it; wrong number. 

Important to me was finding out specific information about my lack of formal Jewish education.

My memory had been right as Freda corroborated the facts that I sadly remembered. When Sheila and I were 9 years old, Freda took us to Hillcrest Jewish Center/HJC to sign us up for Hebrew School. We were turned away because we were "not 8 years old, but a year too old." 

Freda just explained to me that HJC made more money on the boys registering because they had celebrations. Later she made sure to enroll her son Carl even before he was 8, age 7 1/2 to be assured of his education. Freda said that girls were not yet getting Bat Mitzvahed and we were not money makers for HJC. 

Aa teenager, I tried to teach myself Hebrew from NY Times, Hebrew LP records which I would send for as they became available. I still have them, and moved them from NY to CA. At the HJC I took a class at night on Judaism when I was a teenager. Used a book by David deSola Poole. I still have the little paperback. 

Terry Lenihan, my childhood friend, said not so many years ago, before she died five years ago at age 53, that I wanted badly to have a Jewish education. I hung out with Terry at her church for services, and listened to  "Catechism" assignments that she deplored.

Freda shared other information. She said the my mother was a "crazy mother". That "she was not interested in her children."
She was always reprimanding me and could not control me. "Can't do this and can't do that." I do remember that my parents would not allow me to go to Spain following High School and I went anyway for summer study. (Used my baby-sitting money to travel.)

But what else was Freda thinking about? 

She said my mother slept during days and and lived at night. What is that about? 

Said she smoked like a chimney. TRUE. It literally killed her. 

She was different. 

About me: 

Freda said I was sure of myself. I had reasons for doing something, whatever it was. 

I was a hindrance to them, and not welcome. 

No one was around the house. I think my mother was always at home. A recluse artist.

She was a perfectionist. 

She was "fermisht",Yiddish for frazzled. 

Libby was out of the range of normal mothers. Children did not come first. Her art and husband did. 

Dog was allowed on the furniture but not the children. 

G*d forbid if I banged on the door. 

In reading letters I refound this week I learned from what I did not earlier see, some sad facts. 

I found letters that Aunt Edith had given to me after her mom, Grandma Ethel, z"l, had died. They had been in Grandma's vault from 1952 to her death in 1988. 

Mom's letters were all about insurance policies, that Grandma as future custodian, should have enough to care for us if ever anything happened. The letters also went on for pages and pages about gardening. 

One letter said, "Joy and Faye are playing nicely with each other." 

Another line spoke well of our older sister, that she is a treasure, and not the problem that Grandma had witnessed on her last trip. 

In all these several letters, this is all that was spoken of us, the children. There is no joy spoken of in parenting. What a great sadness for me to read this. (It is what as adults my older sister told me.)

Faye will also read them soon. 

Freda said that I was "bubbling all the time, filled with joy, and happy."

That I liked being over at Freda's home. 

Where does all that bubble come from when my childhood was missing LOVE??? 

This is the same question that I am asked today as an adult, months after Marcel, z"l, has died, and following years of difficulties. 

I thanked Freda for those times and for today for her generous time in talking with me. 

I also asked about my present head tic. I never had it as a child, she said. Lillian has said the same thing. No tic until I was married. 

Lilian my friend, said that when Aviva was a baby nursing (and I do recall that I brought my baby downtown to the Bonaventure Hotel to see Lilian when she was visiting), that I told her that Marcel had called me a "cow" and refused to have sex with me. Sadly, there is full truth in this. Lilian believes that I have the tic from all the abuse from Marcel and ill treatment from Marcel's family and then from the stress of Marcel being sick. 

Mom never went to PTA meetings, said Lillian, in a later conversation with me today. 

Good thoughts:

I do recall that mom brought in beautiful branches of yellow forsythia and pink crab apple blossoms from our garden to my classes. She also brought to my class in PS 178 in Hollis, a fish tank of fish. That was my dad's hobby and it was kind, I recall, that they shared this gift with my class. 

Lilian did say that my parents had invited her and Simone for Passover Seder when David was travelling for work. Mom had given Simone a tea set. I remember Mom making and decorating a small Christmas tree for Theresa Lenihan. I remember that Mom wanted to help the rabbi's son when he was sick, with some art, mobile making, and she did.

Speaking today to friend, Sara Weber, she reminds me that in the 50's, "children were to be seen and not heard." Our voice was not honored. Not listened to. not respected as a child. 

So the Divine plan is that I overcompensated in my Jewish learning. 

Since I was wounded by my mother, I neglected her when she was in hospital for 6 months, dying with metastatic lung to brain cancer. Hospital was in Manhattan, far from Queens via buses and trains and walking. 

My truth was denied when I was not allowed to speak the word, "cancer" to the patient. Chief neurologist said he would not allow me back in if I uttered the word 'cancer'. 

This week I found a note from my mom from Feb. 17, 1969 (one week before her death) saying that the doc said she would go home in a week. Who was he kidding, denying every ounce of truth, for the game of deceit to go on? (Sadly, I never said 'goodbye' to mom.)

I recall once as a teen while Mom was still alive, that I was crying in the bath tub, and mom came into the bathroom and showed compassion. Sadly, I don't recall any other embraces. 

And no, I don't recall my parents coming to my bed at night and reading me stories or kissing me goodnight, as other parents do. 

Luv, JOY, age 59, still with questions.

==

from Sheila's, z"l, husband Malcolm

Freda Rutenberg Genberg Goldstein, z"l

October 15th 1919 - June 2, 2019

My fantastic mother-in-law Freda Rutenberg Genberg Goldstein passed away this morning five months shy of her 100th birthday in Florida. The picture was taken with Sheila at her niece's wedding on LI circa 2007. 

Freda was born in Russia/Russian Poland after WW1 and came to the US in 1929 with her two siblings to stay with an uncle until her parents came later on. She became a nurse and joined the Army with her sister, who aslo was a nurse, and they were posted to India in 1944. She married my father-in-law Julie/Julius Genberg after the war and raised two kids, Sheila and her brother Carl. 

She retired to FL in the mid 70's and when Julie passed away she married Morris Goldstein. About 10 years ago, about the same time as Morris passed, Mom began to show signs of extreme dementia. By the time Sheila passed July 19, 2010 she had lost all memory of her family and spent the final years of her life in whatever world someone without conscious memory can exist. But now she is at peace we hope. 

She loved to dance. She played the Mandolin. She was a girl scout leader, but I don't think she ever went to camp. She never really learned to drive. She loved to feed her family with her homegrown recipes that would never see the light of day in a published cookbook. Somethings are better left the way they. RIP Mom.

- Malcolm Sokol

Freda and daughter Sheila, both z"l

~ ~ ~

Baruch Dayan HaEmet

My condolences to you Malcolm, and your family. A beautiful tribute you shared. 

My heart is deeply feeling the sadness from passing over of dear Freda, z”l. 

For all my decades, I’ve held Freda in my heart from the time she was my wonderful and kind Queens, NY neighbor, and beloved Brownie and Girl Scout Leader, and mother of my childhood dancing to American Bandstand pal, Sheila, z”l.  No one but Freda ever made clothes for my little rubber baby doll, Tiny. They were a beautiful red button coat and hat. Only because of Freda, I got to experience a few years of Scouts, work on badges, eat warm smors from a fire in Cunningham Park, go to camp and sleep in a big tent, oar in a canoe, and fish in a lake. She made a big difference in my life. Freda did try to register Sheila and I for Hebrew school at Hillcrest Jewish Center but the shul was only taking boys. Grateful that I found Freda through former old neighbors and spoke to her a decade ago, and sent her my love a year ago, via Carl.

May Freda be reunited with her loved ones in Shamayim. May G*d wrap her precious soul in comfort and love.

May her memory be a source of blesSing and strength to your family. 

May the Compassionate One bless you and family with comfort along with all mourners of Tzion and Yerushalayim. 

In sympathy, Joy

~ ~ ~