My husband Gary and I moved from Long Island to New Jersey in 1995 in order to take advantage of a business opportunity. Growing up, I was a frequent visitor to New Jersey since that’s where my grandparents, aunt, uncle and cousins lived.

However, the area of New Jersey we moved to did not look the same as where my relatives lived. It was much more rural and seemed 20 years behind compared to Long Island. There were no nail salons, frozen yogurt shops or convenience stores (don't forget it was 1995).

We were used to having any store you can imagine only a few minutes away. Of course, the traffic was such a nightmare that it was rare for you to take even the shortest trip without dealing with congestion. In our New Jersey home, everything seemed to be 15-20 minutes away without any traffic at all. Gary and I kept wondering where all the “stuff” was. We had never lived anywhere other than Long Island (Gary did live in Queens until he was 12) so the rural life was new to us. It was a bit reminiscent of “Green Acres” if you are old enough to remember that show.

We didn’t know a soul and we had no children so it was hard to meet other people.

We joined a local synagogue which was a fraction of the size of my congregation in Long Island. Not only was it smaller, but they didn’t own a building. I had never heard of such a thing. They had services in a local church and used an elementary school to hold Sunday school. I wondered where the heck we had moved.

I met a few people there and started volunteering so I could help, have something to do and get to know more people. Gary was not interested and a social life wasn’t as important to him as it was to me. We became friendly with several couples from work and once we had children,our social lives expanded tremendously. Our lives became tied to all the other parents we would see at school parties, birthday parties and sports that our kids played.

As the kids got older, I began to attend a women’s networking group regularly and found a sisterhood of wonderful, supportive business women.

I developed several close relationships when I started to volunteer for the organization. I always looked forward to our meetings and camaraderie.

Fast forward to December 30, 2022, the day my husband Gary passed away. As I was at the funeral home making arrangements, the funeral director asked me how many people I expected at the funeral. I gave him a puzzled look and told him I had absolutely no idea. How did anyone know the answer to that question? I explained I had a small family consisting of 20 people. The date of the funeral (January 3rd) was the date most people were returning to school and work after Christmas break so I was sure the turnout would be low. I guessed 50 people might attend and honestly thought that could be too high. 

The day of the funeral, my sons and I began to greet a couple of people who had walked through the door a half hour before the service was to begin. At that point I was sure the number of attendees would be closer to 30. The only reason I even was paying attention to the numbers was that I was worried about the seating. What would happen if 60 people showed up? It’s amazing how your mind focuses on the silly things in moments of intense grief!

I’m not sure when or what happened but moments later there was a line of people outside the front door.

They just kept coming and I had no idea where they would be seated but the funeral director assured me it would all be fine. Some of the people that walked through the door were people I would never have expected to see there. It was impossible to convey my true appreciation to each person I greeted.

As I glanced out into the crowd, I had such an overwhelming feeling of gratitude at such a time of great sadness. The two opposing emotions shared the space in my heart as I forged on during one of the most difficult days of my life. At the end of the day, I asked the funeral director for a headcount and he told me approximately 225 people had attended Gary’s funeral. A couple of hundred people also visited us at our home the next two nights.

They were people from all different groups.

Women from my networking group and my 6am workout class walked through the door. Our neighbors, including some we didn’t know very well were there. Friends from work and our synagogue piled in along with old friends whose kids grew up with ours came. My boys (age 21 and 20) preschool teachers surprised all of us. And at the end of the night, a young woman, who used to work at our pharmacy walked into our home crying and hugging me tightly. 

The food that came through our doors was enough to feed hundreds of people. The UPS driver was stopping by at least once a day to deliver food and gift baskets along with beautiful plants and flowers. A 6am workout buddy sent me a cookbook (more on this in a future blog) and the local newspaper offered to publish an ad for my new online store (www.asprinkleofhearts.com) at no cost. 

In addition, on January 9th, one of my videos went viral on TikTok.

This was a first for me. I was absolutely shocked and confused at the same time. What had caused this to happen? My message that day was about starting over. I recorded it 8 days after Gary died. Since that day, I can’t stop checking TikTok to read the over 17,000 comments of love and support I have received from people all around the world. I’m overwhelmed by the kindness and thoughtfulness of strangers taking the time to send me a message. I want to be able to thank each and every one of them individually but it’s impossible.

It’s now been 2 ½ weeks since Gary died and the cards and packages are still arriving. Never in my life have I felt more love. People I know and those I don’t have opened  their arms and enveloped me and my boys in a big, warm hug. I am rendered speechless(which rarely happens) but incredibly grateful.

Community. 

Over the years, we had become part of the community. A warm, generous community who takes pride in caring for one another. A type of community that I had never experienced growing up. Gary and I, together had grown from knowing absolutely no one to having hundreds of people who cared about us. I never had given much thought to the impact of community but this experience has changed that. 

 Never again will underestimate the power of community.