Linda Friedland
FRIEDLAND, Linda (née Rosenblum) – My mom was not just a piano teacher and mother of four, she was a critical thinker, a problem solver, a shining example of the human spirit and a person who would literally give just about anyone in need the shirt off her back. In the 1970s she raised four boys under the age of four and we all became good people. Noah is a professional musician, Abram is a professional tutor for high-school students, I (Nathan, father of Kayla, married to Mara) am an ER nurse, and my twin brother Joe (father of Sarah, married to Janet) is a pastor. She was married to Sherman, a world-renowned clarinetist. Born in Brooklyn, New York, my mother was very, very tough and taught her sons to stand up for what we believe. The family moved to Montreal in 1976 and mom taught piano at Concordia University for many, many years. To this day, all of her students speak very highly of her. Around 1999, she and my dad moved to Cornwall, Ontario and she commuted back and forth each day to continue teaching at Concordia until she got diagnosed with mitochondrial myopathy (a very rare disease, sort of like multiple sclerosis) and had to stop teaching. Being the sons of two musicians, we were exposed to music all the time. Both mom and dad loved movies so we went often to the old theaters to see tons and tons of films. My mother’s disease got worse and worse over the years, but when my dad was still alive, we would meet up at Colisee Kirkland to watch a movie at least twice a month. Two years ago, after dad died, my mother lived alone in her house in Cornwall, and because of her disease could no longer eat enough to survive. She made the choice to get a feeding tube surgically implanted in her stomach and fed herself with a pump. My daughter Kayla and I would visit very often and the two were very close, about as close as a granddaughter and her grandmother could be. My mom had many, many friends and family who loved her; Carmen, Vera, Germaine, Pat, Nathalie (like the daughter she never had), Vojto and Elena, Father Cal, Wolfgang and Joanna, Noah and Glenn, Aline and her children, Salpie, Karen, her sister Nancy and her kids Brett and Samantha, cousin Judy, nephew Randy, her Cornwall taxi driver and Molly Maid friends, the healthcare workers and physiotherapists who’d see her a few times a week, I could go on and on. Despite a sharp decline in health starting in 2020, mom refused to go to a nursing home. She was very determined, but was ultimately admitted to Cornwall Community Hospital on March 13, 2020 and died two weeks later on March 27. The care she was given there was unbelievable; the doctors, nurses and support staff were incredible. In the days leading up to her death, I was lucky enough to spend a lot of time with her. Even as she was dying, she was so smart, so keenly perceptive, and such a genius in her understanding of life and human nature. On March 26, we watched one of the greatest movies of all time, The Godfather, together in the hospital. She could barely speak, she was so weak, but really wanted to see it with me one more time. It took her mind off dying. Even though I had seen the movie fifty times at least, I always had a question about it: when did Michael change from a guy who said “that’s my family Kay, not me”, (while telling Kay the Luca Brazi story during the wedding scene) to a ruthless killer? Mom had an interesting take on it, which sounded spot on. Even though there is no contact between Michael and his father until the hospital scene where Michael tells him “I’m with you now”, Michael was clearly always his father’s favorite son. At the wedding, his father won’t take the picture without Michael in it, and we see him looking for Michael through his window blinds. Even though the two never talk to each other, it is all implied. Mom said that Michael “suppressed” his attachment to the family business all his life, but it was surely there. He knew all of the details of the Luca Brazi story, he knew about the role of the consiglieri, he was intimately aware of the details of the family business when talking with Kay at the wedding. Michael snaps as soon as he sees the headline in the paper that his father has been shot. As soon as that happens, he can no longer suppress his place as potential king or “Godfather” of the family. He loved his family all along and even though he is petrified to shoot the cop and Sollozzo, love is stronger than fear. We had a really great time that night analyzing the film and she was so, so wise. Like anyone who was lucky enough to know her, I will miss her immeasurably. As I write this, I am a wreck; when I feel like crying I instead laugh, it is all very confusing. Due to Covid-19, it will not be appropriate to hold a funeral for mom at this time, so we will hold it at a later date. In the meantime, we can remember her and celebrate her by watching The Godfather with a glass of wine, a slice of pizza, a cannoli, whatever. If so desired, contributions in her memory to the Muscular Dystrophy Canada (www.muscle.ca) would be appreciated by the family. Funeral arrangements entrusted to Wilson Funeral Home, 822 Pitt Street, Cornwall. Online messages of condolence may be made in the obituary section of: www.wilsonfuneralhome.ca
FRIEDLAND, Linda (née Rosenblum) – My mom was not just a piano teacher and mother of four, she was a critical thinker, a problem solver, a shining example of the human spirit and a person who would literally give just about anyone in need the shirt off her back. In the 1970s she raised four boys under the age of four and we all became good people. Noah is a professional musician, Abram is a professional tutor for high-school students, I (Nathan, father of Kayla, married to Mara) am an ER nurse, and my twin brother Joe (father of Sarah, married to Janet) is a pastor. She was married to Sherman, a world-renowned clarinetist. Born in Brooklyn, New York, my mother was very, very tough and taught her sons to stand up for what we believe. The family moved to Montreal in 1976 and mom taught piano at Concordia University for many, many years. To this day, all of her students speak very highly of her. Around 1999, she and my dad moved to Cornwall, Ontario and she commuted back and forth each day to continue teaching at Concordia until she got diagnosed with mitochondrial myopathy (a very rare disease, sort of like multiple sclerosis) and had to stop teaching. Being the sons of two musicians, we were exposed to music all the time. Both mom and dad loved movies so we went often to the old theaters to see tons and tons of films. My mother’s disease got worse and worse over the years, but when my dad was still alive, we would meet up at Colisee Kirkland to watch a movie at least twice a month. Two years ago, after dad died, my mother lived alone in her house in Cornwall, and because of her disease could no longer eat enough to survive. She made the choice to get a feeding tube surgically implanted in her stomach and fed herself with a pump. My daughter Kayla and I would visit very often and the two were very close, about as close as a granddaughter and her grandmother could be. My mom had many, many friends and family who loved her; Carmen, Vera, Germaine, Pat, Nathalie (like the daughter she never had), Vojto and Elena, Father Cal, Wolfgang and Joanna, Noah and Glenn, Aline and her children, Salpie, Karen, her sister Nancy and her kids Brett and Samantha, cousin Judy, nephew Randy, her Cornwall taxi driver and Molly Maid friends, the healthcare workers and physiotherapists who’d see her a few times a week, I could go on and on. Despite a sharp decline in health starting in 2020, mom refused to go to a nursing home. She was very determined, but was ultimately admitted to Cornwall Community Hospital on March 13, 2020 and died two weeks later on March 27. The care she was given there was unbelievable; the doctors, nurses and support staff were incredible. In the days leading up to her death, I was lucky enough to spend a lot of time with her. Even as she was dying, she was so smart, so keenly perceptive, and such a genius in her understanding of life and human nature. On March 26, we watched one of the greatest movies of all time, The Godfather, together in the hospital. She could barely speak, she was so weak, but really wanted to see it with me one more time. It took her mind off dying. Even though I had seen the movie fifty times at least, I always had a question about it: when did Michael change from a guy who said “that’s my family Kay, not me”, (while telling Kay the Luca Brazi story during the wedding scene) to a ruthless killer? Mom had an interesting take on it, which sounded spot on. Even though there is no contact between Michael and his father until the hospital scene where Michael tells him “I’m with you now”, Michael was clearly always his father’s favorite son. At the wedding, his father won’t take the picture without Michael in it, and we see him looking for Michael through his window blinds. Even though the two never talk to each other, it is all implied. Mom said that Michael “suppressed” his attachment to the family business all his life, but it was surely there. He knew all of the details of the Luca Brazi story, he knew about the role of the consiglieri, he was intimately aware of the details of the family business when talking with Kay at the wedding. Michael snaps as soon as he sees the headline in the paper that his father has been shot. As soon as that happens, he can no longer suppress his place as potential king or “Godfather” of the family. He loved his family all along and even though he is petrified to shoot the cop and Sollozzo, love is stronger than fear. We had a really great time that night analyzing the film and she was so, so wise. Like anyone who was lucky enough to know her, I will miss her immeasurably. As I write this, I am a wreck; when I feel like crying I instead laugh, it is all very confusing. Due to Covid-19, it will not be appropriate to hold a funeral for mom at this time, so we will hold it at a later date. In the meantime, we can remember her and celebrate her by watching The Godfather with a glass of wine, a slice of pizza, a cannoli, whatever. If so desired, contributions in her memory to the Muscular Dystrophy Canada (www.muscle.ca) would be appreciated by the family. Funeral arrangements entrusted to Wilson Funeral Home, 822 Pitt Street, Cornwall. Online messages of condolence may be made in the obituary section of: www.wilsonfuneralhome.ca