Obituary of Marc Andrew Chizinsky

You were late to sit, to crawl, to walk. But once you learned, you did everything in a hurry, as if you understood something about time that we hadn’t yet grasped. I think we get it now. You never acquired words, but you would gesture with one hand in the air, and vocalize, as if you were lecturing to students or trying to control a wayward orchestra. We listened. We responded. We made fools of ourselves to make you laugh. Anything to make you laugh. You learned to dress and care for yourself. Tie your shoes. Button your cotton shirts all the way to the top. Always all the way to the top. Anything else was unacceptable. You were fastidious, a napkin in one hand and a dripping ice cream cone in the other, carefully wiping the corners of your smile. You loved Mom’s baked goods. Really, you loved any baked goods. You weren’t that picky. You learned early in life to recognize trash, to pick it up off the ground, to dispose of it properly. Sometimes it wasn’t trash, and we had to chase you and rescue whatever you were carrying. You didn’t mind. You thought being chased was funny. Anything to make you laugh. Your need for order and structure could be exasperating, but you came by it honestly: we are a family of slightly rigid, slightly anxious tinkerers. When you were seven years old, you came home from Hillcrest School for the weekend to meet your new baby brother for the first time. We didn’t know what to expect. You peered into the bassinet, saw that he was sleeping, and reached out to touch him very gently, as if he were a flower or fine porcelain. It turned out that you loved babies. You were kind. You were silly. You were thoughtful. And you were expressive: I don’t think any of us ever stopped waiting for you to turn casually toward us and begin to speak. Now we must speak to you, and for you: to say we love you, and that we know you loved us. And that we’ll take it from here. ************************************************************************************* ​ In addition to his friends at the Pleasant Ridge Home and Seniors Neighborhood Center, Marc leaves behind his mother, Marta Chizinsky; brother Ken Chizinsky and family (Debra Feldstein, Jonah and Arielle Chizinsky); sister Sandy Chizinsky and family (Bill Miller, Zoe and Eliza-Eve Leas); aunts Diane Hollender and Joyce Chizinsky; cousins Len Hollender (Cindy), Lisa Raab (Mike), and Hayley Chizinsky (fiancé Steve Dalton). Marc was predeceased by his father, Walter Chizinsky; his uncles, George Chizinsky and Arthur Hollender; and his cousin, Ariane Chizinsky. Marc’s family is deeply grateful to the staff at Pleasant Ridge and the Seniors Neighborhood Center for enabling Marc to live a rich and fulfilling life. ​