Yahrzeit

Yahrzeit is the remembrance of a loved one who has passed away. It involves lighting a candle that burns for the 24 hours on the date of their death and saying kaddish for that person on that day.

Today is the 11th anniversary of my father's death. He struggled with COPD and CHF and lived longer than anyone believed he could. He was determined to meet and spend time with his first grandchild. The Scientist brought great joy to his life. When she was 9 months old he could no longer hold on. It was just too much. With great dignity he chose the course his life would take and how it would end.

Before he died he wrote several letters to her which were saved on a disk. Now that she is old enough I will be printing them out for her. I also plan to make copies for all his other grandchildren born after his death. It's just as much for them as for The Scientist.

My father was born during the depression to first generation immigrants. He was one of 13 children. His family had worked hard and done well. They lost everything but never gave up. My father left school and went to work after 8th grade to help support the family. He was completely self educated and one of the most well read, educated people I knew. Wounded during WW II, he returned to fight even though he suffered a partially disabling injury.

His obituary talks about his love for his family. How books and reading were a keystone in his life. How he considered himself a very lucky man.

Even after I had grown and was on my own I talked to him almost every day. After he passed away it was a long time before I stopped catching myself picking up the phone to call him. I admired him in many ways and respected his opinion. Many times I find myself wondering what he would think or say about something. He knew how important is was to discuss and debate, he loved listening to others opinions. He had no time for political correctness or the bullshit that goes along with it.

When I got my drivers license and said I wanted to get a VW Bug he was upset that I would buy a German car. But in his typical fashion he stated his opinion, heard my reply then let me make my own decision (I never got that Bug or any other German car). Yet when he met friends of my husband's family who were born and raised in Germany and immigrated to the US after WW II he was nothing but friendly and accepting. He never judged people except for what he saw in them. It took me a long time to understand how he managed to separate his feelings.

Before he died he told me his only regret was that he wouldn't get to know his grandchildren and they wouldn't know him. Don't worry, The Scientist, The Vet and Baseball Boy know all about their PopPop. You will always be with us. B'Shalom (with peace)