A hundred and five. That's what you would be today, Pop. I'm sitting here and thinking, what would you feel about this world today, so different from the world when you left us. You were the most important man in my life for so many, many years and I was and am, in fact, very lucky that my partner for life, molded himself in his roles as husband and father with you as the model, Both you and Mommy encouraged him to soar high and spread his wings and accomplish so much , and is continuing to do so. For that alone, we owe you both so much thanks and appreciation, and mostly, all the love we had to give, to share.
You were a dad to admire. You were a dad to love. You were the person who made me understand that action could affect so many others and not necessarily in the way one wanted to; thus, one had to think ahead and follow the threads of any decision, any action and judge and act wisely. I learned that the consequences must be taken into the decision, but to always be true to one's morality and core beliefs.
These were strong incentives to learn and practice the art of wise decisions. In the years that you were with us I hope you were proud of me. I certainly hope that since 2005 you have looked down from above and approved of what I have done with my life. Did I do enough? Have my deeds and words aided others, comforted them?
I loved you so much, Pop and still do. However, you remain with me always. While I still miss you. you are never far from me. When it comes to any decision, any important decision I must make, I quietly seek inside my soul for your voice, giving me advice, leaving the decision up to me. I so hope I have made you proud of me, were never disappointed by me, even as I made that decision when I was three. It remains etched in my heart and soul. Your expectations were high, but always achievable and always you were there for me.
I often remember how I would call you on the phone and read you a letter I had written, or an article I had written or to discuss some issue about which I knew you would have strong feelings. I remember how you would reciprocate, often calling me or keeping me on the phone when you had written a letter. I loved your enthusiasm. I loved the fact that you still felt so strongly about issues and did not push them aside. I loved how you defended your position, not afraid to speak up, not afraid to oppose what you saw as something wrong or foolish or unnecessarily causing hardship to others. I loved how you continued to learn in both the secular and the religious world, and how you earned the respect and yes, the love of so many, so much so that on that awful day when we had your funeral it was standing room only with people from so many different worlds
You always made room for me. When I was a little girl, Pop, you were always there for me. I could go into your office when I was a toddler and sit there beside your desk at my little table and open my drawer in your desk and do my work as you did yours. It was the same desk I 'fixed' for you when it was brand new. I was so proud when you asked me to help you with certain surveys and conclusions and records that you had to take care of. I remember the cheese boxes. I recall holding your hand on the way to shul Saturday morning and on the way back. I can still feel the warm words and the warm feeling they induced when you took the time to teach me something or help me make my way through some maze of an assignment. I remember and still value the ethics which you imparted to me and the courage to speak my mind and to keep that same mind open.
Pop, as we both got older a funny thing happened. Up to a certain point I could you tell you everything. No secrets, no holds barred but suddenly arose a difference. It was not that I did not value your advice or appreciate it, but I had become afraid for you. Your health began to fail and I wanted to be sure that I did nothing to increase your pain, only to keep you strong, to keep you with me, with us, for as long as we could. You did not shirk your work or your responsibilities, but I too had a responsibility towards you. I had hoped you would not notice that bit of difference, but you did. If I did not call you for a day trying to work out something without aggravating you, you would tell Roni, "Your mother is angry with me".
No, not angry, just selfish I guess, trying to keep you whole and with us, even as you gradually became weaker, as you and Mommy would look at each other. As I came upon a moment when there was a difficult decision and you sat together, leaning into each other, foreheads touching and your hands tightly clutching each other's. How could I not do whatever I could to keep you.
Many came knocking at your door for advice. Many looked upon you as a father figure, as a wise friend, an older brother, a man of honesty and sympathy and counsel. You gave much of yourself in time and money with monetary charity and aid given quietly, often anonymously.
I wish I had the power to make your world one of goodness, happiness and respect, a world where people looked upon each other with empathy and sympathy rather than with hate. A world where nothing would disappoint you. A world of mutual respect and appreciation of each other. A world of no bumps or irritation even as you grew weaker. I wanted to take away the worry that could be seen in your face when you gazed upon Mommy. I knew you were worrying -What would she be, what would she do without you? We all asked ourselves that question.
And so you left us too soon. I had much left to learn from you, so much advice. So much we all needed from you. Perhaps we all needed and asked so much, too much. If so, I ask, I beg, forgiveness from and know that we only meant to surround you with love. To keep you within, to cocoon you.
However, even as you are not with us physically you remain a huge part of our lives. It is not unusual for us to sit around, several generations among us, and talk for hours, exchanging stories and memories. You remained with us in so many various ways as our kids grew up, as your great grandchildren grew up and continue to incorporate you into their lives.
No one could have missed you as much as Mommy. From the day you left us to the day you came to take her home, even as she enjoyed being with the family, she was counting the moments. We all knew that. We all knew it was coming but I guess it was easier when we were not there, to be ready to walk away with you and leave us doubly bereft. Her devoted caretakers, her friends, told us what they saw.
Suddenly, she sat up, her eyes opened wide and bright. Her face lit up with a brilliant smile and she spoke clearly and audibly. "Natie, you're here." Each of you, again, whole, together with the love of your lives. We know you are once again with Mommy. We know that together you watch over us. We love watching the pair of Cardinals, one larger, who hang by Roni's house, who seem to find us wherever we go. We also see that little Red Robin who now hops along with you and know that together with you, held close, is Yitzy, taken so horribly soon from us. Keep him safe. Keep him close. Together with him and all of our loved ones there who greeted you, watch over the family. And as He sheds His light upon all of you, remind Our Lord Above that His People down here need him - now.
Pop, I will always miss you, I will always love you. For all our yesterdays we shared.
For all the todays of our lives.
For the tomorrows awaiting.
Always and forever.
Happy 105th, Pop.
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