Diary Wednesday, October 1, 2025. The temperature is dropping ever-so-slightly, but last night the thermometer dropped into the mid-50s. And it’s getting darker earlier, and that’s all beginning as we move into the holiday seasons upcoming.
Last night Mark Gilbertson hosted his annual holiday cocktail party at a local private club. I don’t know how many years he’s been hosting this very popular pre-holiday cocktail party but it’s always in Classic style; men in jackets and ties and women dressed in that warm style of the season coming.
The guest list includes people Mark’s known most of, if not all, his life. This is no longer the norm in social circles, although, as with any fashion, it’s ultimately about quality. And the social part of one’s world.
However, as it is New York, there’s always something else going on just around the corner. I was reminded of that yesterday at the Modern at MoMA, where JH’s mom, Rochelle Hirsch, was celebrating a milestone birthday luncheon. The date held a double meaning, though: it was also her and husband David‘s actual 54th anniversary! (Rochelle’s birthday was back in the summer; but “sometimes life just gets in the way.”)
Knowing Rochelle’s natural humility and reluctance to be the center of attention, husband David took the reins, hosting more than 50 of Rochelle’s nearest and dearest.
The highlight of the celebration was when her children — JH (if this is your first visit to NYSD, JH stands for Jeff Hirsch of NYSD); Jason, and Stefanie — along with David, all recited 80 things they love about Mom.
While we won’t give away the entire list, it’s clear that Rochelle is an extraordinary woman. She possesses boundless, naturally positive energy, serves as the capable household “handyman,” and is a dedicated educator and woman of deep faith and philanthropy.
Though she may be particular — setting a beautiful table and subtly hinting at what her kids should wear — she is the first to offer unwavering support for all their major life decisions.
Her defining trait, according to all those who know her, remains her immeasurable, unconditional, monumental love for her family, a commitment only surpassed by her dedication to always reminding them to “be a Mensch” in all situations.
Another thing only those closest to her know is that Rochelle is a secret poet, writing hilarious, rhyming prose for friends on their important life occasions. She finally had the chance to pen one for herself, and when she generously shared it at the luncheon, it had the women in stitches. And you’ll see why!:
I’ve written for birthdays, anniversaries and toasts,
But this one’s for me, and I’m the host!
What can I say about myself?
Besides being past the expiration date on the shelf.
I’ve asked my children, who are adoring,
What are my quirks and they replied, “Mom you’re boring!”
So I will share the details of how I’ve aged,
And hopefully, you’ll relate and I’ll keep you engaged.
I’ve followed most rules and stayed in line,
No wild adventures or scandalous times.
Married to the same man for 54 years and we’re still a pair.
It helps that he’s cute, he drives and has his hair.
They say with age comes peace and grace,
I say it makes me want to do my face.
No appointments yet, though it’s getting thought,
But at 80, it just may be for naught.
Implants used to mean my breasts,
Now it’s my teeth and I’m very stressed.
More cataract surgery is in store,
And now, glaucoma is knocking at my door.
My stomach seems to grow each night,
I seem to have developed quite an appetite.
Teenage pimples used to give me dots,
Now I’m dealing with liver spots!
When I sneeze I sometimes leak,
And words come out that I did not mean to speak.
David tells me I often snore,
And repeat myself again and once more.
I used to look forward to sex in bed,
Now it’s tee times and card games instead.
And should you hear moaning outside my bedroom door,
It’s just a leg cramp that has me groaning on the floor.
My grandchildren are amazed that upper arms can wiggle,
They find it amusing to shake them and giggle.
They also tell me my hands are old,
And this is the age that is supposed to be gold?
I walk into a room and forget why,
It really makes me want to cry.
And am I the only one here who is always prone,
To constantly misplacing her cell phone?
Life has put me through many tests,
Like losing my hair and losing my breasts.
Because of breast cancer my children’s book, “Lumps and Bumps” was written,
Which has helped many young children whose mothers were stricken.
Many of you have been my friends for over 50 years,
We’ve been there for each other through laughter and tears.
We may not talk on the phone each and every day,
But we have unspoken bonds that never will stray.
Think of this day as an initiation to a sorority,
One that is all about kindness and loyalty.
Because as we age it becomes crystal clear,
That we must cherish our female friends who are so dear.
Thank you for celebrating this milestone with me,
As I exposed myself for all to see.
There is one more thing I must say with no shame,
Before you say goodbye, just remind me of your name!
