My mother passed away at 10:27 am on Friday, December 29, 2023. I’m sharing this remembrance from her funeral. Thanks for allowing me a moment of grace to tell a brief part of Mom’s story. Bea was known as Bea Bea and Queen Bea.

Beatrice Ginsberg Slater – May 22, 1927 – December 29, 2023

Born on May 22, 1927, in Philadelphia. Bea was the daughter of the late George and Fannie Ginsberg. Her sister, Annette Lawrence, preceded her in death in June of 2007.

Proudly raised in West Philly in the 1920s, 1930s, and 1940s, Bea celebrated her childhood on Catherine Street with everyone she met. It was a neighborhood with a deep sense of community in a gentler and carefree time.

The family was at the core of everyone in her beloved childhood neighborhood. And family remained at the center of Bea’s being throughout her long life.

Our 96-year-old mother, Bea, never truly grew up beyond her sweet childhood. She often said, “I have lived a wonderful life and would ask her children, “Why have I been so lucky?”

The Sweet Story

Known affectionately as Bea Bea by her grandchildren and Queen Bea by others, her most endearing quality was believing candy is an essential vitamin and that no meal is complete without dessert.

Eating dessert first was always a good idea; it was how she rolled, as in cinnamon or jelly rolls.

In Mom’s world, she can enjoy a nice dinner, have a candy apple from Halloween for dessert, and still have room for a big handful of M&Ms or malted milk balls later in the evening.

Unlike her boomer kids, she didn’t believe in organic or healthy food but in the holy trio of Jello, Tastykake, and M&M’s.

A coconut cupcake was like a portal to the past, evoking ecstatic childhood memories.

At the center of her home was Bea’s mystical, sugar-laced candy drawer that attracted children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren like bees to honey.

We all remember the distinct *CLICK* of the drawer opening as someone was diving in for a sugary treasure.

Sweets were Mom’s time machine that took her back to her childhood in West Philly. Catharine Street was a place to relive her childhood days when she and her older sister Annette would play outside on the yellow brick road with cousins like Bobby and Morris Teitelbaum and friends like Rita and Adele. She celebrated her sweet 16 on the sidewalk in front of her house at 6049A Catharine Street.

There’s No Place Like Home

In the beautiful sepia-toned photographs our grandfather Poppa George, a commercial photographer, took in the 1930s and 1940s, the kids seemed so overdressed for hopscotch. They would line up and wait for the iceman who did cometh.

Even during the final moments of her life this past week, she continued regaling us with her happy childhood memories as if she was a hop, step, and jump away from Reisenbach’s local candy store.

Our mom would reverently retell the story of Mr. McCauley, the Bryant School janitor. He would bring the students soft pretzels loaded onto a ruler. With a remarkable memory, this tale from 1935 was as fresh in her mind as a fresh-baked pretzel with mustard.

What a memory!

I can’t remember what I had for lunch yesterday.

It’s ironic to think that Mom only lived on Catharine Street in West Philly for less than 15 years since for most of her remarkable 96 years, she lived with our father, the late Jack Murray Slater, in the same home in New Jersey since 1952.

Like Dorothy returning from Oz, our family brought Mom to the old neighborhood eleven years ago to celebrate her 85^th birthday.

At the end of that day, she told us there was no place like home.

Meeting That Handsome College Boy

In 1946, she met a handsome University of Pennsylvania student named Jack Slater at the Colony Surf Club in Long Branch, New Jersey. Her mother, Fannie, said, “Beatty, look at that handsome college boy with the Penn t-shirt.”

Married on June 16, 1948, they celebrated 61 years of a happy marriage filled with raising their three children at 20 Warwick Circle in Springfield, NJ. That home became the centerpiece for joy-filled family celebrations—countless birthday and graduation parties. She lived at 20 Warwick Circle for 71 years.

Like Johnny Appleseed, Mom was always trying to spread the seeds of joy and happiness because she was aware of the abundance of love surrounding her life. Kindness, compassion, and generosity coursed through Mom’s bloodstream.

And, like her mother, Fannie, Mom could meet someone new and, within ten minutes, know their life story.

She was a sort of like a yenta detective.

CEO of 20 Warwick Circle

Mom was a proud homemaker who took her responsibilities as CEO at 20 Warwick Circle with great reverence. She had a passion for nourishing everyone who walked through the front door.

Although she worked as a commercial photographer with her father before she married, she never sought work outside the home, with one exception. In the mid-1980s, she and her best friend Norma started a delivery service in Northern New Jersey to sell Rachel’s Brownies, baked by her daughter-in-law Ra El and son, Jeffrey. There was no better salesperson for our brownies than Bea Slater. The joy it gave her heart and soul to be employed as our loving emissary was extraordinary.

Mom’s work was always focused on her family and was at the heart of her life. Every family celebration included small slips of paper on empty platters – to organize in advance where each delicious dish would go on the festive tables.

Bea was the Queen of the Jello mold, wiggling and giggling joyfully to all who enjoyed her cooking.

The Last Chapter

After my father Jack’s passing in 2009, we all wondered and worried about what would happen to Bea.

Slowly, she asked for help learning how to use a computer, which was initially our dad’s sanctuary. She got an iPhone and saw the power of Facetime and Facebook to connect with loved ones.

Over time, Mom could text like a teenager.

One day, she texted her granddaughter Fanny that Rachael Ray was holding a national cookbook competition and she should enter.

In the most memorable text imaginable, she said, “You never know.” Of course, Fanny won, and Mom had a front-row seat to her victory, running on stage when Fanny’s win was revealed.

In 2019, urged by her youngest son Mitch, in an incredible twist of fate, she got to dance next to Stevie van Zandt and his band onstage, wrapped in a feather boa and singing right beside him.

The next moment, breathless with excitement, she sat backstage and spoke with Bruce Springsteen after he performed. She was the face on billboards and advertisements for JDate, a Jewish dating app where she was portrayed as the lead yenta. A star is born in her 90s. What a life.

In her last moments, Mom reminded her children that nothing else matters but family.

She sent handwritten birthday cards or thank you notes to everyone she met. It was a meaningful way to mark each moment and underscore the importance of gratitude.

Mom had no regrets and lived each moment to its fullest. In her final days, she worried that if she inadvertently hurt someone’s feelings, Mom wanted them to know – she was sorry.

With her passing, I fear Hallmark and the Post Office will struggle to stay in business.

Her Family

Surviving are her children Diane and Jerry Bedrin of Saddle River, New Jersey, Jeffrey Slater and Ra El Remez of Raleigh, North Carolina, and Mitchell Slater and Leslie Dickstein of Westfield, New Jersey. Her grandchildren survive her: Jaime Bedrin and Scott Dodd, Garret, and Jessica Bedrin, Sarah and Adam Snyder, Fanny Slater, and her partner Makenzie Westfall, Harrison Slater, and Georgia Slater. She is also survived by five remarkable great-grandchildren, Henry Dodd, Juliet Bedrin, Owen Dodd, Harper Bedrin, and Bodhi Snyder.

With Mom’s blessing, Bodhi, our grandson, was named in her honor five years ago. A gift from Mom I’ll enjoy throughout my life. If you have several hours, ask me about Bodhi Kai.

Bea was preceded in death by her sister-in-law and brother-in-law, Roslyn and Judd Winick, and her late brother-in-law, Robert Slater. Robert’s wife, Elinor Slater, lives in Jerusalem, Israel, with her family.

Bea outlived almost all her friends, like Rita and Stanley Laderman, Norma and Al Schaeffer, Nat and Florence Turin, and Norman and Ceil Lipman. Mom stayed connected with most of their children for decades. She was blessed with kind neighbors who watched over her every day.

She was close to her late hairdresser, Tommy. Her housekeeper, Celia, and her husband, Tony, were always there to support her.

We were all blessed to have a devoted aide and companion, Lukunda (Lovey) Muguara, who cared for Mom during the last few years of her life.

 In the Queen’s final days, she repeatedly told her children to be good to one another. Queen Bea lived a long, sweet life and will be missed but never forgotten. She will be with us now and forever in our deepest hearts and souls.

We will love and cherish her as the rarest jewel of love we have been blessed to know, as mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and fairy godmother to all.

Dorothy and Queen Bea were right. There is no place home.

Last Call

Almost every day since 2009, at 5 pm, I would call or FaceTime with my mom.

We would discuss the same topics: How was the weather today? Were you busy with calls? What are you cooking for dinner? Did you get the final Jeopardy answer last night? Depending on what happened to the Mets the night before, I’d asked her how the boys did last night.

When it is 5 o’clock, who will I call?

More information about Mom’s funeral here, including how to watch her memorial service and to make a donation in her memory. Watch a video here of her life from her 90th birthday celebration in 2017.

You can set up a time to chat with me about your marketing challenges using my calendar. Email me jeffslater@themarketingsage.com Call me. 919 720 0995. The conversation is free, and we can explore if working together makes sense. Watch a short video about working with me.