Letter to the Editor: To be continued

I am pleased that The Philadelphia Inquirer gave life to a portrait of my mother. How she would have thrived with the opportunity of an education.

To the editor:

Wherever my mother traveled, if she saw grass, she looked for a four-leaf clover. From my earliest years, I realized her search was symbolic. What she yearned for was a different life, a different husband, freedom. That was not to be, but she kept on looking for hope, for magic. She died more than 15 years ago after a valiant battle with cancer. Her last words to me were, “To be continued.” The source of my mother’s vicious adversary was never medically found, but to me, it was her broken heart. As I stood at her grave, I promised I would find a four-leaf clover and bring it to her.

My mother died a few days before a long-scheduled trip, but I felt compelled not to cancel. In profound mourning, I endured events feeling like I was not really there, only watching myself. But one morning, I spotted a four-leaf clover among the weeds. As a caretaker haphazardly approached, pushing his lawn mower, I asked if I could take the clover home with me, very briefly explaining why. At lunch, one of our hosts asked me to pass the clover to her, assuring its “safe return to me.” As days passed, my low-key requests for this promised return were ignored.

When Jewish family members visit the grave of one beloved, we note our visit by leaving a small stone at the graveside. My plan was to place the clover beneath a stone, where it could remain until it was no more. The next time I visited my mother’s grave, as I left the stone, I shared the story of the missing clover and said I would keep on looking. Inside of me, I felt the words — spoken by my mother once again — to be continued. Life has taught me everything is … until or unless, mercifully, some things are not.

Published in The Philadelphia Inquirer July 18, 2025