We called each other “Heart”
Nana was there the day I was born. My parents love to tell me the story of how she showed up at Lenox Hill Hospital in New York City with an armful of shopping bags, verklempt, as her first grandchild was about to enter the world.
And I was on the phone with her the moments before she died at the ripe young age of 101 years old. My father, sitting with her so she wouldn’t be alone, speaker phone on, my brother Caleb and I conferenced in and said the Mourner’s Kaddish out loud and read poetry of grief and loss — saying goodbye to her for the last time.
“Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower, we will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind…” — William Wordsworth
Nana was a blessing in the lives of everyone she touched. She was built with bones of compassion and empathy. She gave of herself generously, and she had the rare ability to be 100% present with everything and everyone that she encountered.
She volunteered at St.Vincent’s Hospital in Santa Fe until she was 100 years old. Giving. Being there for others, being with people, listening and then offering some wisdom. It was what nourished her. Living to 101 meant she saw all of her siblings go before her, her husband and most of her friends. She lost her son way too early and a grandson even earlier. Through her heartache she found a way to keep pushing ahead. The strength and spirituality of Nana always amazed me.
“Would you do me a favor? Have a Nice Day.”
This phrase was Nana’s answering machine message for the past 10 years. It wasn’t “hello this is Bee”, or “leave a message and I’ll call you back”, or even “thanks for calling”. It simply said in her wonderful voice with a hint of Chicago, “Would you do me a favor? Have a Nice Day.”
Everything necessary to say was embodied in that one short phrase.
She would say this to cashiers at Trader Joe’s, bank tellers, the pharmacist, the florist… And when she did, people stood there for an eighth of a second slightly shocked at the warmth and generosity they had just received. It was a hoot to watch! And made me feel so so proud to be by her side. She lit the world up. It was her gift.
Nana was my person. I knew it and never questioned how our bond formed or became so tight. Even as a 7 year old, I knew she was my person. My confidant, keeper of all of my secrets, the one who understood my emotions and ways within the world. Nana was the person who never judged and always always had the right thing to say in any moment of confusion, heartache or angst. I have no idea how we started calling one another “Heart”… somewhere somehow it began, and it took. She was my best friend. And I was hers.
“He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest…”-W.H. Auden
Anyone who has ever known me knows the importance of Nana in my life. Friends across the world, co-workers, partners, even former clients… I’ve never been shy about my massive connection with My Heart. Many times I would call her and before she had the time to say “hello”, I’d be belting out the lyrics to “I Just Called To Say I Love You” and she would chime in with me… our voices for sure sounded like the screech of stray cats, and we cracked ourselves up.
And now she is gone — after living an extraordinary life, she is at peace. She is exactly where she is meant to be. And while I am relieved on every level that after 101 years she is at rest, I miss her desperately.
I dreaded the thought for the past decades knowing this day was going to come at some point in my lifetime, I used to practice saying in my head “My Nana died” just to scare myself a little bit. And then I would snap myself out of it, quickly. Hiding that thought away.
Nana always seemed invincible to me. She wasn’t “old” until she hit 99. She worked at Saks Fifth Avenue in Beverly Hills until she was 80. She was elegant, oh so stylish and dressed all of the glamorous women in “Ladies Wear” for years and years. On the day of her retirement, my brother, cousin and I placed a wreath upon her head and carried her out of the store on our shoulders!
We moved her to Santa Fe when she was 89. She hit golf balls until she was 95. She drove her car until she was 97. She lived alone until she was 98. You see what I am saying… She was ageless. It wasn’t until she fell sick in April that I knew the end was actually near, and while sitting in her hospital room, eyes swollen from my tears, I was going to have to find those words that I never imagined I would say. “It’s okay My Heart. You can let go now”.
My Heart gave me so many gifts. She taught me to be of service and give freely. She taught me about the need for family and to be uncompromising about that. She showed me how necessary it was to take time for your morning coffee, and never ever let someone question how you feel about them. Most of all she taught me how to love unconditionally. There will never be a day when she is not with me.
My Nana followed my career in advertising from San Francisco to London and now New York City where a remarkable thing happened a year ago. Gary Vaynerchuk, CEO of VaynerMedia created a role for me — I am the “Chief Heart Officer” of the agency. I am known as “Heart” every minute of every day. HEART follows me. All of the gifts Nana gave, all of her ways with people, her presence, her patience, her joy and generosity… I get the honor of keeping that alive in my daily work.
I was so lucky to have Nana’s wisdom in my life, and I feel it’s my responsibility to share her top 5 keys to living a happy and long life:
1. In partnership/marriage never go to sleep mad at each other
2. Have a lot of sex
3. Work needs to be something that brings you joy
4. Be of service
5. Never say no to a glass of Crown Royal and water
Yesterday I received a letter she wrote to me a couple of months ago that my parents sent after she passed. The punchline she left me is this:
“Always live your life to be happy”.
And now I leave that with you.
Rest in Peace. Bee Schulman. My Heart. January 8, 2017
