My Mother’s Life Lessons on Choosing Happiness by Rachayle Deutsch

The Power of Positivity

MY MOTHER’S LIFE LESSONS ON CHOOSING HAPPINESS

BY RACHAYLE DEUTSCH

When I asked my daughters who the most positive person they knew was, they both answered immediately: Babie Toby, my mother, Toby Schwartz.

Without the benefit of a higher education, psychology classes or any formal training, my mother simply figured out life’s secrets to success. She subtly developed guidelines over the years to living her life with integrity and joy. Although preaching was not her style, her easy wisdom was sought by all generations of our family as well as by relatives, neighbors and friends. My mother taught by example, and we learned many valuable lessons from her gentle and beautiful approach to life.

The glass is half full. Actually, my mother used to say, “My glass isn’t half full. It’s overflowing.” And she truly meant it.

She counted her blessings on a daily basis, never focusing on what she didn’t have but only on what she did have – and she felt so fortunate by all that she had. Although she did not have an easy childhood or adulthood, my mother simply searched just a little harder to find the positive in a situation. She would tell you how grateful she was to wake up every morning to find that her mind was working.

You could say she looked at life through rose colored glasses but in a very deliberate way. She felt that the key to true happiness was to focus only on the positive. Even after tremendous loss, she chose to trust in G-d’s plan for her.

“In life, you always have a choice of how to look at things – even the challenges,” she would say. “It’s our job to find the beauty.”

Once, I suggested she was perhaps rewriting history when describing a bleak period in her life. She looked at me and smiled, “I didn’t forget what happened. I just chose to remember it differently and see how it was all for the best.”

Seeing the good in others. My mother not only looked at her own life in a positive light but always chose to see the positive in others. She didn’t stand on ceremony and wasn’t looking for honor or respect

from others. While many people naturally find flaws in others and their behavior, my mother thought everyone was interesting, had potential, and was special. She didn’t focus on their negatives. This is part of what made her so enjoyable to be around. Because she only saw the positive in people, she made other people feel good about themselves.

She inspired others to smile even when things seemed difficult. It’s easy to focus on the negative and feel sorry for oneself, but she refused to be that person. Depression and negativity are contagious, but so are happiness and positivity. One just needs to decide what type of person they want to be. My mother simply loved making other people happy.

A sense of humor and an inter-

est in the world. My mother had many reasons to be down, especially in later years as her body failed. But somehow, she managed to turn every situation around. With Hatzalah and increased doctor visits in her home regularly tending to her wounds and growing list of illnesses, what could have been a depressing situation was not.

She managed to make everyone smile with her sense of humor. When asked how she was feeling, her frequent response was, “Mentally 39, physically 139. Unfortunately, my body has a mind of its own.”

She made everyone laugh. Instead of cultivating their sympathy, medical staff would leave her apartment with smiles on their faces.

As my mother’s physical world got smaller, she continued to expand her intellect and reach. She listened to I24 to keep abreast of what was happening in her beloved Eretz Yisroel, watched Jeopardy and classic old movies, read the newspapers regularly as well as the latest novels, and continued calling friends and relatives to touch base and see how they were faring. Every conversation with her ended with the other person feeling more upbeat, in highn er spirits, and with a more positive mindset. Focusing on the right values. My mother was the least materialistic person I know. Although she was always thankful when receiving gifts, they didn’t hold any real value for her. It was family that meant everything to her. Getting together with her children and grandchildren for holidays, barbecues or any occasion brought true joy for her. Watching the family grow, seeing the cousins running around playing, observing her daughters interact with love and respect – those scenes are what gave value to her life.

She understood that things are just that – fleeting and unimportant. “It’s your mitzvot that matter, that you take with you,” she would say. “The rest is meaningless.”

And while she didn’t care about things for herself, she was always on the lookout for gifts and gadgets that would make other people happy and their lives easier. As soon as she found out there was something someone liked, she would keep a mental file and know what to get for that person. It was always about others.

Be the bridge. My mother loved connecting to people. She had a tremendous knack for keeping communication open with relatives and friends from all walks of life. Once she met you, she remembered you always. She loved playing Jewish geography and finding common acquaintances. She made friends wherever she went.

My father had lost his immediate family in the Holocaust and came to this country without a mother or siblings. My mother took it upon herself to be that link who stayed close with every branch of the family – both hers and his. She didn’t wait to be called or called back. She would reach out and check in and make sure to leave the lines of communication open on all sides.

People loved hearing from her. She was a true matriarch of our family. Her cheerful voice and upbeat disposition along with her sound, gentle guidance made her a favorite of all who knew her. Whether you were a new friend or an old one, of her generation or decades younger, her wise words and kindness bridged all gaps.

Not a week after my daughters and I put “Babie’s Guidelines to a Successful Life” together, my mother, Toba Kayla bas Yitzchak Eliezer, peacefully passed away in her favorite recliner, surrounded by her beloved daughters.

Within minutes, the phone calls, texts and emails began pouring in from those who knew her well as well as from those whose lives she touched briefly. Hundreds of messages filled our phones from people who knew her as a dress shop owner over forty years ago, those who remembered her from her Boro Park days, her stint in California, her years in the bungalow colony and her four years during the ‘70s in Israel. Everyone considered her to be their friend. Everyone felt the loss personally.

One branch of the family confided to me that they secretly called my

“In life, you always have a choice of how to look at things – it’s our job to find the beauty.”

mother The Sunshine Lady.

“If you ever needed to feel good about yourself, to be cheered up, or just to know someone cared about you, you called Aunt Toby.”

My mother passed from this world way too soon, but even in her passing, her perspective was posiw tive. She made it very clear to us that she was ready to go to her home on beautiful Har HaMenuchot and be reunited with her beloved husband, parents, and siblings. She was ready and was satisfied that her goals were accomplished.

She left behind a beautiful, close-knit family, which was her biggest joy, and a genuine shem tov,

which was her only true wish.

This article is the second in a series of articles that will be published in TJH in a lead-up to a community-wide initiative, “The Power of Positivity,” to be held on Motzei Shabbos, February 13 in 18 shuls across our community. Stay tuned for more information on this interactive workshop run by JWLC, the Jewish Women’s Leadership Council of the Five Towns, and sponsored by UJA Federation of New York.