What is the measure of one’s life?
How does one recognize the depth or degree of one’s footprints left on the landscape of one’s earthly existence?
A person’s walk albeit beginning with just a singular step, followed by another and then another, eventually results in their journey through life. Whether they blaze new trails or follow paths previously taken is not of import, rather what is of tantamount importance is the depth and distinct markings or conversely the soft and barely visible traces that are left in the process. For some there is barely a grain or two of sand that has been shifted or displaced let alone footprints left. For others the footprints are so deep that even the winds of time cannot nor do not, erase them. They are indelibly marked to be followed, observed and learned from.
May I proffer that in my view the measure of a life lived ( the footprints left or lack thereof) are evidenced by the kindness and acts one offers as they walk along the way on their journey of life. The degree of their acts of kindness their doing of good deeds in general have a side effect of defining the depth and breadth of their footprints.
If a footprint were to be likened to an accomplishment, then the accomplishment must not be measured by material gain, nor artistic endeavor, technological or scientific discovery or advancement; rather the ONLY MEASURE is the random and continual actions of kindness and giving of one’s self OR the deployment of one’s accumulated assets, creations or inventions to the betterment of individuals and thereby to humanity and all living things. Their outline then and their depth and breadth is as such defined.
Eric Mahr “Aryeh ben Shaia” my brother, was a man whose very existence touched and left footprints on a multitude of people, places and things in all walks of life. Every day of his life since he was a little boy he interacted and performed random acts of kindness and gave of himself ALWAYS to everyone he met along the way. ALWAYS.
It was without effort. It was without intent. Rather it was a part of his very being. IT WAS HIS VERY COMPOSITION. It came as natural to him as breathing air. Eric my brother was a kind, loving, sweet soul from the day he was born to the moment I shared his very last breath with him.
As he took one step at a time and moved from one encounter or one act to another, he left footprints, NAY, he blazed deep marks in the hearts and souls of virtually everyone he encountered. In all my years with him as his older brother I cannot recall one single human being that did not benefit from the knowing and interaction with this gentlest of beings.
As a little boy walking home from grammar school in Buffalo New York, he was hit by a car while crossing the street. The car didn’t stop, nor did any passersby. Little “Ricky” as he was known then was not able to walk or stand because his leg was broken yet he dragged himself the many blocks home. When he got home he matter of factly told our mother he, “might need a little help as he hurt himself.” Not that someone hurt me Mommy, not that I was by a car Mom, but “I might need a little help because I hurt myself.” He did not blame even at that young and tender age. He took action somehow he made it home and somehow he figured out a way to get his mother to help him.
As a young child he started to exhibit his brilliance and intellectual prowess by memorizing the name of every single dinosaur, and could literally name then by rote when each was displayed. In later years he took to reading pages at a time of the encyclopedia and just devoured and consumed information. He was a voracious reader however the world of comic books entered his life from an early age and he became fascinated by them and fiction, which later turned into him becoming a huge fan and collector.
This later of course was the baseline of some of the books he authored and created. I remember all too well when young Ricky who was somewhat shy in his early years, stunned us all one day as he appeared in the living room of our home complete in makeup and blackface and pantomimed to Al Jolson songs. That was the beginning of the end of his introversion and shyness as a boy and his blossoming into the young man which later became the man loved by so many.
Although not the consummate athlete, he decided he wanted to play football in high school and with shear will and determination turned himself around into making the team ala the character in the movie “Rudy” for Williamsville North High School.
My brother followed in my father’s footsteps as well and obtained his Eagle Scout Rank in the Boy Scouts of America. A task and position that taken to completion is held by only a select few. Many begin few complete.
Although my life had been more of an athletic one, if one were to compare us as boys, it was my brother who taught me how to run. He decided after reading Jim Fixx’s book on Running that he would become a runner and as such he would go to the 440 track at a local high school and literally trained himself. He always did this late at night and one night he took me and literally ran laps more than I could which amazed me, but he did it and taught me how and as such I became a runner.
In his adult life as many of you know he authored and created many books published by Mahrwood Press, Inc. I believe that it was his fascination in his formative years and beyond with comics that provided him with the creativity to author and publish picture books illustrated by famous illustrators telling stories and depicting events of the religious beliefs and history that he loved and held so dear in a manor not ever done before.
His life, his accomplishments, his LOVE OF FAMILY AND PUTTING FAMILY FIRST. certainly were paved and modeled after the special relationship and bond he had with our father and his observations as to how our father lived his life. Yet my belief is his adult life’s direction and course became most deeply defined when at the age of 18 years he was called upon to identify the body of our father lying in a pool of blood after being savagely murdered by two young thieves holding up his pharmacy. Shortly thereafter, 3 years to be exact, our mother died in his arms while he was trying to give her mouth to mouth resuscitation after she choked on a cookie which induced cardiac arrest. My brother turned to Judaism. He was trained as a young boy in the Hebrew school of the Saranac Synagogue, and attended Judaic summer camps in mid New York State some summers. He took to his religious studies and practices with the same fervor and passion as the dinosaurs, encyclopedic study, football, and running; however it was further honed by our mother, when she insisted that he and I accompany her after our father’s murder to twice daily minyans. It was there where Eric mastered dovening and signing and chanting of the prayers.
He met his Jody and together they embraced Judaism with love, passion and zeal and they raised their family. Their home was ALWAYS SO OPEN SO FULL with FRIENDS and FAMILY EVERYWHERE. No one was turned away. Everyone was welcome, and magically there was always more than enough for everyone.
I COULD GO ON AND ON AND FILL UP HOURS OF THIS DAY WITH STORIES OF ERIC MAHR. I COULD TELL YOU ABOUT THE SUCCESSES AND THE FAILURES. ( both were used by him by the way to learn from, and HE NEVER GAVE UP) THE LESSONS AND THE VICTORIES… RATHER I WOULD ENCOURAGE YOU TO MENTION HIS NAME AND IN MOST PLACES SOMEONE WILL KNOW OF HIM SOMEONE WILL TELL YOU THEIR OWN VERSION OF ERIC “RICKY” MAHR… ARYEH ELTER MORDECHAI BEN SHAYA MAHR.
HEAR ME O ISREAL… HEAR ME PEOPLE OF THE WORLD WHEREVER YOU MAY BE. YOU HAVE BORNE WITNESS TO THE FOOTSTEPS OF A SPECIAL BEING. A MAN SO REPLETE WITH KINDNESS AND GIVING IN EVERY STEP OF HIS DAILY WALK THAT NO MATTER WHO, NO MATTER WHERE, NO MATTER WHAT the circumstances of your interaction….. You felt his touch. You experienced his pure and unselfish giving. You realized his genuineness and caring.
What is the measure of a man I asked you previously? My answer is to give you one yardstick that you can measure by……. and that is my brother Eric Mahr.
Please say psalms in his name as he would ask you to sing the praises to the G-d he loved not to honor or extol him. I as his brother ask of any of you that read this or hear this to raise your voices loudly with clarity so that the heavens, that the entire universe will resonate in praise. The emphasis and the most positive effect of representing him and what he stood for and how he acted in life would be to please do what Eric would do, and that would be to perform acts of kindness good and giving of himself to other people, places and things….
Please allow me to share with you the last few hours of his life as I observed them. He flew under duress and stress to be by at his father in law’s funeral. His wife had flown ahead as she was flying home to the United States from Israel to visit her father and while she was in the air her father passed on. He delivered a eulogy of eloquence for his father in law and carried with him words from his sons and a poem from his daughter that he also read. Within hours of the funeral and shiva he attended with the Chevra Chadisha to our Uncle’s body who had also died and the funeral was to be the next day. He communicated with me via text message how hard and intense it was for him as he was so close to our Uncle as were we all. The morning of our Uncle’s funeral, 24 hours after his father in law’s funeral, he handled pressing and personal business matters by cell, email and text. He then met with our sister and me as it was the 1st time all 3 of us were together in many years at the same time. Then before we all left to go together so he could deliver yet another eulogy, he stopped before walking out the door and went back in and said he would be a few minutes as he hadn’t yet put on his tfellin. He did so and then we left for the funeral. When we arrived he fulfilled a promise to our Uncle that he would come back and be with him the next time he was in Buffalo and started his eulogy for him. He collapsed and inspite of every effort to resuscitate him he left this earth and his neshama started its journey to join those that went before him.
HEAR ME O ISREAL. HEAR ME ALL PEOPLES OF THE WORLD.
BEFORE YOU ARE FOOTPRINTS OF ONE OF THE SPECIAL MEN WE ARE BLESSED TO KNOW. ERIC MAHR ARYEH BEN SHIA
The sun has perhaps set on my brother’s physical journey, but not his mark on ours …..
Rest in peace my brother you did not die in vain
Rest in peace my brother the world will miss you so
Rest in peace my brother we will always keep your memory alive
Rest in peace my brother we will live our lives with you forever in our hearts.
Rest in peace now brother you will not be forgotten and the rich legacy you have left, your teachings examples and acts of kindness will live on and on and on
My dear sweet oh so special brother rest in peace.
“As a stone cast amidst the serenity of still waters, produces ripples
some small, some soft and gentle, some large, some intense and reaching
far across it’s depths and dimensions……
As raindrops fall and gently caress the leaves of trees
and glisten, with rays of light illuminating……
As a butterfly floats on ribbons of air, like a gentle breeze blowing a
ribbon on a young girls hair ……….
As a sunset kisses the horizon and it’s touch gently lingers on
the cheek of the sky at dusk…..
As a rainbow’ s colors are presented as brushstrokes from a vast
palette of magic against an azure blue canvas…..
As the light, the instant after a rainfall freshens and serves to accentuate
the beauty that lies beneath what is always there.…..
As the force and power of great waves cascade the sands of the shore,
carrying with them everything from within….
So too were those supreme moments of amazement and wonder
Trial and tribulation, victory and defeat
spent together with you my brother.
Eric Mahr Eric Mahr Eric Mahr
