Tribute to Bebe

I don’t usually share family photos here, but I am going to make an exception today, because my heart wants to pay tribute and this is just one small way I feel I can express my gratitude for my mother-in-law, Beverly (aka, and hereafter referred to as Bebe), who passed away yesterday after a very long and tough illness battle.

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I never understood mother-in-law jokes. I mean I got what people were saying, but I could never relate. I met Beverly and her husband Steve in 2002, predating even this prehistoric website. I was basically a baby.

On my first visit to Miami Beach over winter break 2002, I was blown away by this family that welcomed me. They seemed to have something so incredibly special, and at the heart of that was Bebe, Josh’s mom. She made me feel like a member of the family from day 1, and I just had a sense that this family was a family I WANTED to be part of. (Seriously, even if my nascent relationship hadn’t worked out — we had started dating ~3-4 months prior — I believe in my heart that I still would have remained close to his family. THANKFULLY though, it did! Truthfully at that point I already 100% knew I wanted to get married and have 2-3 children with Josh, so it was a huge relief to also fall in love with the family on that first trip to Miami Beach.)

On the first or second day of that trip, I went for a run (as one does! the weather was glorious and there were palm trees!) and promptly got lost. This is actually hard to do in their neighborhood, but if anyone could manage it, it was (is) me. No one carried around GPS back then, and I hadn’t brought my flip phone (I mean, who would do that?).

After a suspicious length of time went by and they figured something might have happened, the family drove through the streets calling my name. I remember running to my rescue car as dusk was starting to fall and being SO embarrassed, but instead of making me feel bad, they both said something like “Hey, we’ll laugh about this in 20 years.” Bebe always said she was so worried and was already thinking through how to call my parents and tell them they had lost me forever.

And this story has now lived on, in the most charming of ways, for decades.

Going to the Unger home in Miami Beach was always a comfort, and Bebe was a huge part of that. She didn’t just superficially ask about what was going on. She LISTENED, with all of her heart. She remembered every detail. She had a level of empathy that was almost uncanny, because she truly cared.

In the above picture, Josh’s parents had come to celebrate his graduation from residency. I was in the throes of infertility misery, and they could have chosen to ignore that and focus on Josh, but they didn’t. They gave him the celebration he deserved, and she was also there to listen to my struggles without minimizing.

Always with Bebe, you felt heard.

She suffered from health problems for decades, and yet was such a present force in all of our lives. We had beautiful parties for every child added to the family, she made it to dance recitals and soccer games and birthday celebrations. Even when we felt bad asking because we knew it would be hard, she wanted to come and she was fully there every time.

I can’t count the number of family holidays that ended with me on the couch with Bebe, often stroking Luna (their beloved dog) and chatting about everything — just all the odds and ends of life. She also would always notice when I was in the parenting-little-kids stage several years behind everyone else and spent time with me when I was in that lonely phase of having to follow toddlers around in sheer life preservation mode. She commiserated with my experiences parenting young kids when surgical call was overwhelming for Josh, having been through the same thing herself. She had great book recs and would always listen to my recs, as long as I avoided certain triggers (we joked about things being “B-rated”).

Because of Beverly (and Steve), I am an expert on decades of Unger family lore, stories that will live on as my own kids love to tell and retell them. I have learned that the vacations that end in disaster might actually be the most memorable, and that what really matters in the end is just spending time together. Sharing stories and meals around the table. Having a comfortable place to come home to and traditions that connect us all.

Bebe, I miss you already.

I am so sad that she is gone, AND feel so incredibly lucky to have had her in my life.

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I will be taking a break from this space until next week just to preserve some time and space to be with family, but I am really glad I got to share here as it has always been an outlet for me. Please hug your family members in her memory.