I knew a Holocaust survivor who built his image around that title. He was quick to flash his tattoo and carried his anger like a torch.
Then there was my grandmother - my Bubbie. The Nazis tore her from her home and childhood.
They murdered her beloved father. She and her mother together, somehow, survived the capture and the camp. But to survive is to remember. While the memories haunted her, Bubbie did not let them define her.
After the war, she and her mother packed what little they had and boarded a ship bound for America. They made Rochester, N.Y. their home.
This is where Zadie - also a Holocaust survivor - courted and married her. They would stay together for 61 years. They raised two tall, beautiful children bestowing upon them an infinite supply of the love and generosity.
It was Bubbie, though, who added the spice. She painted joyous scenes in vibrant pastels. She told stories - even the sad ones. And she had the best laugh.
We'd be crying well after I'd forgotten what had gotten us going in the first place. She passed that humor to my mom, then to my brother and me.
I grew up laughing with Bubbie. Today, that laugh is gone. She passed away on Thursday. I miss her so much.
I grieve for Zadie and am so incredibly sad my son won't know her.
But I take comfort in a little verse I picked up a couple of years ago: "They are not dead who live in lives they leave behind.
In those whom they have blessed they live a life again." Through her legacy, Eugenia Konar will, to many generations, be a true survivor.
Adam Chodak, Anchor/Reporter