My mom, Irene Klein, died more than 40 years ago when she was 58 and I was 24. I was still largely undeveloped as an adult, and losing my mother was a huge blow. I drifted rudderless and without purpose for some years after. I’ve always wondered what my life would have been like if she’d been around to continue loving me and guiding me.
Then when I was 35, in marrying Harriet, I gained a mother-in-law: Phyllis Jaffe. We immediately took to each other. I immediately sensed the safe harbor she gave to me. One of our first serious conversations was about the Nobel Prize-winning author Kazuo Ishiguro. She introduced me to the power and prose of Philip Roth. And I exposed her to a number of writers she was unfamiliar with.
Phyllis was a “Woman of Letters”—the words were written on her business card—a former high school English teacher, a reader and lover of literature, an expert in Shakespeare, a patron of the arts. She read drafts of my novels. She offered insights that helped me develop and improve my work. She wanted to know about the interior of a writer’s life. She asked me for my opinions, and not just whether I preferred pastrami or corned beef, but about big things, about human behavior and motivation, about moral condundrums, and she listened to what I had to say.
Mostly I saw Phyllis as a dedicated and loving mother to her three children. A perfect complement to her husband, Joe. A loyal friend and mentor to legions of people within her orbit. And a very present grandmother—Nanny, the kids called her. I can picture her holding my infant children, I can hear her singing sweetly to calm them. I can remember her spinning stories to my kids as they sat with rapt attention.
Phyllis was generous and caring. She was interesting—a robust teller of tales from her own life, a keen observer of others. But even more important, she was interested—in people, in the world around her. In me. Her energy and enthusiasm for life was contagious; she certainly passed it down to Harriet and her siblings.
Phyllis treated me as one of her own, and for that I am thankful and I am a better person. I may have been unlucky in losing my mother, but I was beyond fortunate to have Phyllis as my mother-in-law.
