Del
Greenfield, beloved world citizen, peace activist, mother,
grandmother, great grandmother and friend to hundreds, died
peacefully just after midnight at her home. Del had one cancer after
another for 48 years, more than half of her long and extremely
productive life. She had enough cancer to kill five or six ordinary
people, but she always treated it as a minor obstacle to overcome on
the way to work.
Del’s work consisted of trying as hard as she could for as long
as she could to make the world a better place; a safer place for all
the members of her tribe. Del had a huge heart. And decades before
the rest of us, Del realized the importance of enlarging her tribe,
which of course not only included all of us in her family, but also
every human being on all the continents, all persuasions, all colors
(Arguably excepting certain politicians and corporate executives) as
well as gray whales, polar bears, resplendent Quetzals and Blue
Jeans Poison Dart Frogs.
Del was the small woman with the gigantic life. Graduating from
high school at age 15 she went straight to work. As her job expanded
from working as a secretary, to helping in her husband’s pharmacy,
to the director of the South Jersey Peace Center, through her many
politically active roles here in Oregon, through her legendary
tenure as executive director for Oregon Physicians for Social
Responsibility
(which
through its affiliation with International Physicians for the
Prevention of Nuclear War won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1985), her
horizons widened and she was always in contact with the big picture.
Her walls were adorned with photos of her meetings with
luminaries from Governor Kitzhaber to the Buddhist activist, Thich
Nhat Hanh. She became a world traveler, with destinations from
China, to Cuba, to the Alaskan Wilderness. She was a prolific
fundraiser. She wrote frequently to her local representatives and
they knew her by name. This child of poor immigrants who grew up
speaking Yiddish has many letters published in the Oregonian, and
was the editor of the PSR newsletter. Her command of her adopted
language was perfect.
Del was the recipient of numerous awards, including: Lit
Brothers Mother of a Good Neighbor Award, 2 photography awards, The
National PSR Broad Street Pump Award, the National PSR Lifetime
Service Award, the Hunthausen Peace Award, the Elders in Action
Silver Hall of Fame Civic and Community Award, and the Peacemakers
Award from the Oregon Peace Institute.
Del accomplished many spectacular things in her work but if
asked of what she was most proud, she would loudly proclaim that she
was most proud of her children. And no one on the planet has ever
done a better job of raising children. Her blend of intelligence,
humor, firmness and love, elevated parenting to a fine art, and we,
her progeny remain speechless with appreciation. We each have
accomplishments of our own but we all pay homage to the woman who
gave us such a perfect start, and such perfect lifelong support.
Why, just a couple of days before she died several of us were with
her. She looked around at her apartment and sighed. I’m leaving you
a lot of work to do, she said. I wish I could help you with it. I
really do!
All of us have our annoying quirks and Del must have had them
too but we can’t seem to remember any of them. She lived life
impeccably. She claimed that all of her major life decisions were
made on impulse, but she always decided in favor of the greater
good, and she always seemed to get it right.
Her sense of how to enjoy life was as simple as it was
inspiring. Her last fully conscious evening she mentioned that she
had a regret. She wished she’d made it to the last Rolling Stones
Concert. Del had a vast collection of political campaign buttons,
bumper stickers and calligraphed one liners. One of her favorites
was from Loren Eiseley: “The need is not really for more brains. The
need is now for a gentler, more tolerant people.”
Del’s was a conscious death. Her half century of dueling with
the reaper gave her the insight to know when she had done all she
could. After an eventful afternoon which included meeting her newest
great grandchild, she spent her last two days with her eyes closed.
However she did find the energy to give a final gift to all of us. A
grandchild held her hand and said tearfully, we love you. Grandma.
In response, Del’s last words were, I love you all. I love each and
every one of you.
Remembrances to Oregon Chapter of Physicians for Social
Responsibility or Women's International League for Peace and Freedom
