Saundra Arlene Buskin

December 5, 1934 – February 25, 2026

SERVICE DETAILS

Star of David Chapel Date: March 5, 2026 Time: 12:00 PM

CEMETERY DETAILS

Long Island National Cemetery-2040 Wellwood Ave, Farmingdale, NY 11735

SERVICE RECORDING

VIEW RECORDING: Click Here

SHIVA DETAILS

Shiva will take place at 137 Northfield Road, Hauppauge, N.Y., 11788.

Hours are Thursday 3/5, 5 p.m. to 8 p.m., and Friday 3/6, 1 p.m. to 4 p.m.

You may join the family on Shabbat, Friday 3/6, 5 p.m. to 8 p.m.

DONATION INFORMATION

In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to the American Cancer Society or the Buskin Committee Activities account, which funds the annual Martin Buskin Awards for Outstanding Campus Journalism at Stony Brook. The awards honor the legacy of our father, who taught at the university. (martinbuskin.org)

RESOURCES

• Understanding Shiva
• Chapel Directions
• Local Cemetery Information
• Yahrzeit Calendar

OBITUARY

With deep sorrow, Randi and I wanted to share that our mother, Saundra Arlene Buskin, passed away on Feb. 25 at South Shore University Hospital in Bay Shore, N.Y. She’d fallen, survived surgery, and then suffered a stroke.

Our mother built her whole world around her family. She was 91 when we held her hands for the last time. But we know she’s still holding ours. Love never dies and her love was fierce.

All four grandchildren carry her light and were at her bedside. She’d recently had the joy of holding her great-grandchild, Julia, who arrived three days early.

We’d like to think it was so they could meet. Saundra said she’d been holding on for that moment and to smell her “keppie.”

My sister and I are grateful to the doctors, therapists and nurses who cared for our mother, both in and out of the hospital.

Being a nurse, she shared special bonds with her medical team. Her primary specialist, Dr. Papaleo, was “Pappy.” She’d tell you her physical therapist, Nadine, was the friend who knew when to push, and when to back off and just chitchat.

Saundra was born Dec. 5, 1934, in Brooklyn, N.Y., daughter of the late Rae and Max Rosman. Rae did payroll for Rodgers and Hammerstein, so Saundra saw many Broadway musicals as a child from a special chair, just off the side of the stage.

She and her brother, Martin, grew up in a one-bedroom apartment in Astoria, N.Y. She was a graduate of Long Island City High School in Queens, and Brooklyn Jewish Hospital; she earned her registered nursing (RN) degree in 1955.

Later, at Westbury College on Long Island, she earned a bachelor’s degree. She said she did it with some editing magic from our father, the late Martin Buskin.

They met through her nursing school BFF, the late Sharon Schnabel (Martin’s sister).

The story: Martin returned from the Korean War and said he was open to meeting a nice girl. Sharon introduced him to three friends and Saundra caught his eye. After dating three weeks they became exclusive.

“We knew we were meant for each other,” she told me, chatting at her kitchen table (a favorite pastime).

The June wedding was at Martin’s temple in Brooklyn. They married in 1956 and were together just 19 years before his death at 45, on Feb. 8, 1976.

But they were incredibly happy years, including family vacations to places from California and Hawaii to London, France, Amsterdam and Israel.

Saundra didn’t come from much — her family never had a car — but she felt blessed because she knew what really mattered in life, and she had it all. Love and family, friendships, and a career that brought her great satisfaction.

Married life

Initially, Saundra and Martin lived in an apartment in Kew Gardens, Queens, within walking distance of her job at Kew Gardens General Hospital.

“When I went for that interview they just said, ‘When can you start?’ I went to work that night or the very next day. I was the only RN at night on units for pediatrics, obstetrics, medical and surgical patients. There were three floors.”

Saundra was just a kid then, only 21 or 22. “I’d just gotten my RN license. Sure I was nervous!” she said. “I dropped a whole tray of thermometers one night.”

She got over her nerves and became an excellent nurse. Martin was a journalist at Newsday on Long Island. I came along in 1959; Randi was born in 1962.

Their mortgage was $150 a month when they moved to Commack, N.Y. She said the rule of thumb was “your mortgage should be a week’s salary.” Martin’s was $150. (A reporter at first, he became education editor in 1962.)

Our family made dear friends in our storybook neighborhood, where many young parents were raising children.

When neighbors’ kids had medical issues, Saundra helped. She dealt with everything from scrapes and hernia questions to a near-fatal case of meningitis.

As adults, when we told her how proud we were of her role as the “neighborhood nurse,” she admitted those times were stressful.

But she said you do what you have to, and just do your best.

This philosophy served her well when our father died from a heart attack, forcing her to become both mother and father at 41.

Dealing with tragedy

At the time, she’d already survived breast cancer and was in the midst of a 38-year career at Northport Veterans Hospital. Still, she didn’t know how to read a map or write a check; Martin had managed the bills.

Her next-door neighbor, the late Joan Schimatz, sat with her every night for a year to help her figure it all out.

Randi and I were teenagers in a home that felt too quiet. Saundra decided we needed a puppy. Dustee, a crazy yellow lab who once clawed his way through a wood door, brought life (mixed with chaos) back into the house.

With sheer determination and support from friends and family, our mom got us through graduations, college and weddings. The three of us grew closer, kind of like a girl-power team.

Saundra embarked on one bucket-list adventure, a trip to Australia with her cousin. But mostly, she just kept working in Northport.

Her good friend, Karen Rehm, a fellow nurse, kept her buoyed, as did the arrival of each grandchild.

Saundra guided us through those joyful-yet-sleep-deprived early days of motherhood, embracing her role as Grandma Saundra to Michael, Michelle, Sara and Taylor.

She loved watching the girls’ ballet lessons near her home, and the boys’ forays into sports in Connecticut. Visits to Friendly’s were frequent; everyone got to play the claw machine.

Later years

Saundra was always holding on for the next milestone, but slowed down after injuries including a broken leg and two broken hips, plus lung cancer surgery.

Randi’s husband, Tom, introduced her to birdwatching, which she enjoyed through her kitchen window.

He and Randi tended to her in every possible way — delivering meals, managing mail and doing laundry — so she could stay in the home she loved.

Saundra joked that Tom was so intimate with her refrigerator’s contents, he knew how many grapes she had.

My husband, Brian, soaked up her work stories during late-night chats in her kitchen. A favorite was about how she told supervisors that if they wanted her to come in during a snowstorm, they’d better send someone to pick her up and drive her. And they did.

She never trusted hospital computers, explaining it was safer to see a doctor’s handwriting than read orders on a screen. No regret in her tone, she confessed, “I accidentally on purpose dumped a packet of tube feeding liquid, tipped it over, and it went into the computer keyboard.”

Saundra was compassionate and sassy, often funny and sometimes cranky. She could curse like a sailor and give bone-crushing hugs that made you feel like the most treasured person on the planet.

We teased her about writing a book called “Don’t Die on My Shift.” She told us nurses said that to each other, hoping no one expired as they worked.

If that happened there’d be too much paperwork, she said, (perhaps teasing, perhaps not).

Sharing Saundra-isms

We all learned from Saundra. Whether cooking Passover brisket (50 shakes of this, 75 shakes of that) or folding a fitted sheet, she had her ways.

“Grandma taught me how to curse and how to shuffle cards,” Sara said.

Michelle, her husband, Jonathan, and baby Julia live in the lower half of Saundra’s home. More than 50 years old now, it’s quirky, especially the front door lock and light switches. Jonathan, who helps maintain it, said Saundra taught him “never to touch her bedroom wall light switches” because it creates mayhem with the TV and clocks.

Michelle said Grandma Saundra taught her to “follow my heart with my career and to ‘get that piece of paper’ that says I can do it.”

(Education was so important to both our parents. Saundra always stressed how her nursing degree opened doors.)

Michelle also learned “it’s OK to have no sense of direction and to commit myself to a lifetime of being a passenger princess.”

(Our mother had no sense of direction, either. She once threw a compass out the car window in frustration.)

Michael said Grandma taught him about “self-worth” through her dating rule: If someone wants a date for Saturday but doesn’t ask by Wednesday, the answer is no.

Another lesson was to “advocate for yourself.” Michael said she stressed this point through her story of never failing to tell the VA when they shorted her on hours worked. It seemed to happen all the time.

Many years after her retirement she received a hefty check acknowledging the errors. She gifted the windfall to her grandchildren.

“She taught me to communicate directly,” Taylor said. Say what you mean and speak the truth.

(That was a biggie. Saundra always said, “What’s the point of having a relationship if you’re not going to be honest?”)

If we were doing something she didn’t like, Saundra told us. Of course she always added she was doing it out of love.

Over the years, she repeatedly told me how lucky she was to have had the life she had.

I don’t know if lucky is quite the right word, but we certainly are blessed to have had her as our mom.

Daily phone calls ended with “I love you.” And then she’d say, “I love you more.”

Final details

In addition to her beloved brother, Martin Rosman, Saundra is survived by daughters Linda Tuccio-Koonz and Randi Baker; sons-in-law Brian Koonz and Tom Baker; grandchildren Michael Tuccio, Michelle Langella, Sara Baker and Taylor Koonz; Michelle’s husband, Jonathan Langella; her great-granddaughter, Julia Rae Langella; and her many nieces, nephews, cousins and their families.

A funeral service will be held at Star of David Memorial Chapels, located at 1236 Wellwood Ave., West Babylon, N.Y., 11704. (631-454-9600)

The service is scheduled for Thursday, March 5, 2026, at noon. A Zoom link will be available. Burial will be at Long Island National Cemetery in Farmingdale, N.Y., where our father is buried.