Elaine Elizabeth Jakob Antaki, a class act who was kind to her core, died Friday, January 28th at the age of 91. She will be cherished as Mom, Nana, and Aunt Elaine. And as wife to Joseph George Antaki, her husband of 66 years until his death. She now joins him in Heaven. Our hearts are full thinking of her quirks, her character, and her integrity. She lived her Catholic faith through her deeds.If you needed help, Elaine opened her arms to you. Like the time she brought home a confused, elderly man from the drug store, and gave him lunch while he waited for his daughter to pick him up. Or when she and Joe opened their home in the middle of a winter night to a woman and child fleeing domestic abuse. She helped care for her grandchildren – and not just babysitting here or there. She stepped in to provide full-time childcare when needed, and when she could. She would always say, “I take care of your children like they are my own.”

She could not withhold aid, or empathy, even when it came to the alley cats next door. She would curse their proliferation, but could not keep herself from getting down on the ground and tending to a sickly cat with pink eye. She felt the same compassion for a belly-up goldfish that she never wanted in the house in the first place. Elaine suffered from extreme care. Elaine was a petite woman with many ailments through adulthood. Migraines, varicose veins, an inflamed this or that. But her maladies belied an underlying sturdiness, and they were no match for her unwavering determination to complete a task. That task could be: cooking meals (with five children, there was lot of food to be had); learning how to drive, for the first time, in her 50’s (let that sink in); readying the house for countless visits from her children and grandchildren – and any of their friends, who were always welcome; dying her own hair in the basement; packing for one of her many trips visiting children and grandchildren in other states (packing was a multi-step process, which included a lot of phone calls); sending notes in the mail – Elaine let you know when she was thinking of you. Elaine, Joe, and their children took pride in dressing impeccably, when occasions called for it. She bought the best clothes she could afford for herself and her children, not for the purpose of status, but because looking for that right outfit showed a sense of artistic expression and a sense of pride. She wanted excellence from her children – caring less about grades and more about a sense of curiosity, a love of learning, and a solid work ethic. Elaine, along with Joe, made holidays and parties at their home special events. That means Elaine was often in motion, looking through drawers or closets to find “just the right thing,” as she would say, to complete a table setting or decorate a room.

She added a chocolate turkey, Santa Claus, or Easter bunny to the place settings for children only. In fact, she could make an afternoon snack or ice cream in front of the TV feel like an experience – especially to a grandchild who delighted in her small plates and glassware, just the right size for a little kid. Life was to be experienced with attention to detail and joy. In reality, the dining room and living room at 97-45 106th Street in Queens were small. The kitchen was even smaller. But they felt enormous at times, filled with people and just the right amount of chaos. The house was a frequent gathering place for extended family, friends, and neighbors. After meals Joe would often play the organ, and there would be dancing in the living room. Like many of her generation, Elaine was an elegant dancer. Have you ever seen Elaine blow out a candle? She did so with precision and form. We are going to miss simply how she moved around. Elaine had a special way of getting things done. Just as she would go to lengths to help anyone else, she operated with the assumption that others would do the same for her. It worked. Getting other people’s seat assignments changed on an airplane? No problem. A few dollars short on a gorgeous dress at Lord & Taylor for Bernadette? Here’s what Elaine did: she took the recently-purchased greeting cards from her purse and sold them in the department store ladies room (they were beautiful cards, according to Elaine). She rejected donations of a few dollars, insisting on the sale instead. She knew how to get what she needed because she respected other people and their work. She spoke with a kindness that was always sincere, deployed with a sense of partnership. Elaine brought her own tireless work ethic to her role as sacristan at the family’s beloved parish, Saint Mary Gate of Heaven, where she worked for more than 20 years until retirement.

Elaine would prepare the altar; ring the bells; iron the vestments; arrange the flowers; every so often carry small pieces of furniture to the church if a particular ceremony lacked just the right table; spritz the poinsettias; keep track of mass, funeral and wedding schedules; prepare communion offerings; make everyone feel cared for; clean the candlesticks; fill the incense vessels; and let her eldest granddaughters, running around her, munch on unconsecrated host. She loved the church and the people there, and they loved her.Most of all, Elaine loved her family and she loved New York. That means there was a felt sense of warmth in every visit to 106th Street, and magic in every excursion to the city. She and Joe gave their children, and then grandchildren, a full life with what they had. Until the end, even in her discomfort in her final weeks and days, Elaine blew kisses to aides and nursing staff who tended to her. She was truly grateful for every one of them. She was fully cognizant of the fact that she had family around her, advocating for her care and working to elevate her quality of life every day. Elaine knew that she had people, a crew. And she expressed worry for those who did not. She demonstrated compassion and a dedication to others until death. Elaine is survived by her five children, Susan, Kathleen, Paul and his wife Eileen, Joseph and his wife Denise, and Bernadette and her husband Paul, along with 12 grandchildren and five great-granddaughters. Her traditions, recipes, and Elaine-isms will live vibrantly through her family. She considered her family her greatest life accomplishment. About a month before she died, when asked what we would do without her, Elaine said, “Well, you’ll remember me. And you’ll either laugh, or you’ll cry.” And we will. With every sip of ginger ale, every church bell, and every day. In lieu of flowers, please consider making a donation in Elaine’s honor to Hope House Ministries.