Lest It Be Forgotten After I Am Gone: The Tragedy Years - 1
Raymon Benedyk writes of the loss of a beloved son and a family friend.
In 1996, my life seemingly began to take a new path of ever increasing involvements, more than Elsa and I had known previously. This may well have been because, as we aged, we were slowing down and things took longer to do. Nevertheless, we continued our very full existence and we seemed to fit everything in although, in many ways, it later proved not as successfully as we hoped. Our involvements with community life did conflict with our social and private life, although at the time we did not realise how much, and the choices we made then subsequently proved we had not always gone in the right direction. However, that is life and most certainly if one could look into the future and see the results of ones actions or words, one would do and say things differently. We were no different from anyone else and one has to live with the results. I am sure that everyone experiences this and tries to make amends before it is too late.
Towards the end of 1996, Elsa's good friend and business partner Ille Jacob became ill and spent time in and out of hospital finally, in February 1997, succumbing to Cancer, that dreaded scourge forever seeming to invade my circle. She was a good woman, staunch, loyal and generous to her family and friends and a strong adversary if she felt her family or friends were being wronged. Elsa and I knew we would always miss her.
Since Stephen's operation in 1993, he had periodically gone into hospital for check-ups and told all was satisfactory. However, in late summer of 1997 on one such check-up, he was told that the cancer had returned and that this time it was inoperable. It was arranged that he would undergo a series of radiotherapy sessions which it was hoped would eradicate the problem, and for the next few months he subjected himself to this ordeal. But although he was gradually getting weaker, he continued with his specialised accounting work, which entailed his going to the offices of his various solicitor clients to maintain their books and records of customer finances.
It was during this time that his older son Jeremy was to be Barmitzvah, and the various arrangements went ahead. Unfortunately Stephen was too weak to be part of the ceremony in the Synagogue, and I took over his role. I was proud to do so, although not pleased at the reason it was required. It was nevertheless a happy time, and several family members and friends came from overseas to join us for the occasion.
Stephen continued with his work, which he combined with his periodic visits to hospital for his treatment. He was obviously rarely out of pain and, just before Christmas 1997, was told by his doctor that he had perhaps six months, advising that he put his affairs in order. By now, although he had given up driving, he continued to work. Also by now, his ability to pass water naturally had ceased, and he was taught to catheterise himself and he took the necessary equipment with him as he moved about his daily routine.
Occasionally I would collect him from home and take him to a client or, when going to one in town, to the underground station for him to travel that way. Once or twice I collected him from a client, when I would always find him totally exhausted after a day dealing with that client's affairs. It was obvious that he could not go on, and a day or so after I had collected him from an office in south London at the beginning of February, he went into a hospice for 'special attention'. At first he seemed to revive, and was even able to give us a guided tour of the premises and use the special exercise machines provided for patients. But, almost unnoticed, although it can be recognised now, he was taking one step forward and two steps back, and our daily visits were witnessing his very slow decline as he gradually weakened, soon unable to walk and confined to a wheel-chair.
He was also by now unable to catheterise himself any longer, which required that he have a permanent one fitted. A day or two before he died on February 18th 1998, on an occasion when Elsa and I were sitting with him, he said quietly, "Dad, what happened?" I was unable to give him a sensible answer, something which I shall forever regret. He was in the establishment for exactly two weeks.
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If you wish to make a donation to the Elsa Benedyk Memorial Fund, set up by her friends and colleagues entirely without Raymon’s knowledge to provide funds to support the children's ward of the Shaare Zedek Hospital in Jerusalem to commemorate her life of work with children in her nursery schools, it would be most gratefully received. The amount that you give will not be revealed to Raymon. He is not a trustee of the fund. Your cheque, payable to the Fund, should be sent to the fund's Treasurer Mrs I Dokelman, 14 Charville Court, 30/32 Gayton Road, Harrow, Middx HA1 2HT.
