Greetings and salutations
from a Bubbe full of memories of a very special person: it's the first
Monday since the new card came out, so I can't think of a better day to
talk about Fern Bernstein.
Some
of you knew Fern personally, or if you've ever heard her podcast, "Mah
Jongg Mondays," or read her book of the same name, you feel like you
knew her. She passed away too soon, in fact six months ago
today--September 23, 2025--from a rare cancer that she fought valiantly
for several years.
That's the end of the story, but I want to tell you more about the "before times," and what Fern meant to me.
I
went back over my notes and found the first DM we had--New Year's Day, 2019, after she wrote a post about her project
in the Facebook group, Mah Jongg, That's It! Fern was writing a book about
the bonds she and her friends had created through their Monday mah jongg
group. Although it wasn't yet published, the topic struck a chord with
me and I wanted to reach out to her.
I've
done a lecture for many years about "The Psychological Benefits of Mah
Jongg," focusing on the cognitive, emotional, and social benefits of the
game. MJM obviously focused on the social: Fern talks about how
uplifting it was for everyone at the table to share their feelings and
stressors, and support one another. It was a perfect illustration of how
important mah jongg is as a social event, and I wanted to give her my full support.
"Fern,
I don't know how far along your book is....if you would like me to read
a draft and provide a blurb on the back, would be happy to...then
again, you and your publisher might have bigger names lined up. Lmk if I
can help."
I'm
so glad she responded. She followed up with a phone call that turned
into more phone calls, a transcript for me to read, my giving her
feedback, a decision to meet up in New York City to talk in
person....and, to quote Rick Blaine in "Casablanca," the beginning of a
beautiful friendship.
Fern
was kind of a little sister to me, vis-a-vis publishing--having been
through it myself, and knowing what a fertile topic she'd chosen, I knew
it would be a success. I loved her natural writing style, which showed
off her optimistic and caring personality, and wanted to help her reach her target audience.
If
you haven't read the book yet, you should. One of the main topics,
other than the friendships she formed, was a story line about how much
she went through supporting her husband, Len (yes, Leonard Bernstein!)
through his own medical struggles. Fern had lost her mother very
young, and she was the main caregiver for her aging father.
As optimistic and cheerful as she was, she hadn't had an easy life.
The
book was a tremendous success. Film rights were even discussed! It was only one of the many things going
on in her life, along with caring for Len and their three sons; Fern
was also a Religious School teacher and yoga instructor.
I
should also mention that she was gorgeous. Incredible blue, almost
violet, eyes. A brilliant smile. Lovely complexion. Just a stunning
girl. When I spoke about her to my daughter, I kidded around, always
using the Boston "R" like SNL's Rachel Dratch, calling her "Fehn
Behnstein"--never just "Fern." When my daughter finally saw a photo of
her, she said, "Mom, you never told me she was so pretty!!" Well, she
was.
The
funny thing is, Fern and I only met twice in person. The first time, in
early Summer 2019, we met up at the Italian restaurant at
Macy's, Herald Square. Fern had come in on the LIRR, and I took NJ Transit. Penn Station was only a few steps away. We had a great time, talking
about mah jongg (of course), but also our books, our friends, our
families. We really were on the same wavelength, and I was so glad we
got a chance to actually meet.
The
second time I saw Fern was in November, 2019, when she surprised me at a
speaking gig out in Holtsville, Long Island. I was not expecting her,
I'm not even sure how she heard about it. She said she enjoyed my
lecture, and we sat and chatted for awhile after everyone else had gone.
She had big travel plans for her own lecture tour, but we figured we'd be meeting up again soon.
As
you know, fate intervened. COVID ruined any major touring Fern
would have, not to mention her not wanting to be too far away from Len
and the boys. I had to limit my travel and exposure, too, as I was
taking care of my ailing mom.
Then Fern had the brilliant idea of starting up a podcast.
She ended up recording dozens of them, with guests talking about all sorts of
topics--some directly related to mah jongg, some only tangentially. She invited me on her show, every Spring, to go over
Bubbe's analysis of the new card. She would pitch me a few softballs and
I'd just start yakking. Of course, we'd have a much more personal chat
before we began the recording, but sometimes we'd slip up and start
talking about our lives in the middle of the podcast. I thought her
engineer would delete that part, but often Fern wanted to keep it in!! I
still get feedback from people saying, "I loved those podcasts, it was
like I was listening to two friends chat about the card." Well, you
were.
Fern started
working on a second book that she ultimately published, "Staunch,"
about the two Edies (mother and daughter) of Grey Gardens, a decaying
mansion out in East Hampton, Long Island. Fern and Len bought their own
little waterfront cottage on Long Island. The boys were thriving. They even got a dog. Despite the pandemic, things were going beautifully.
Then
Fern started feeling unwell. She finally got a diagnosis and started a
series of procedures and treatments at Memorial Sloan Kettering. Some
had positive results, others less so. She was really on a roller
coaster, but she kept her spirits up and continued to go out to the
beach house, and record the podcast, as often as she could.
Some of you may remember an article
I wrote back in late March, 2024, about the importance of friends in
mah jongg. I particularly cited two people: a former student and friend
of mine who had recently passed away, and also Fern and how she was both
a good friend and a tremendous asset to the mah jongg community. I have
lost several loved ones to cancer, and knew enough to see where her
illness was headed: Fern was not going to have a long life. I
consciously included Fern in the article to let out some of my
anticipatory grief.
Fern
continued to keep up her spirits as best she could. Mah jongg friends,
yoga friends, just FERN friends sent her cards and gifts; I sent her
little tsatskes to make her smile. Her friends on Long Island were
fantastically supportive, doing things for her and her family; her
doctors were the best in the world.
I
used to text Fern late at night because I knew she wasn't sleeping
well. I didn't want to interrupt her or make her speak if she didn't have
much energy, but we sometimes texted well after midnight. She continued
taking trips (some planned, some emergency) to the hospital. When she
started talking about multiple transfusions, I knew things were going
downhill faster.
Before
she ran out of time and energy, Fern hosted a total of 98 podcasts. I
wish it had been a hundred, I wish it had been a thousand.
When
Fern ultimately passed, her funeral was packed full of friends and
family. There was even a simulcast so that those who could not travel
could still "attend" and pay their respects.
Fern
had a curious mind and loved her life. She was warm, genuine, and
enthusiastic about the things and people who mattered to her--and that
was pretty much everyone she knew. I can't think of anyone who ever had a
mean thing to say about her. I still think about her all the time. It
probably sounds like I miss my friend very much. Well, I do.
Karen