BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl


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Ten Things You Didn’t Know About My Dad

Of course this is silly, since you don’t know anything about my dad. Still he was a very interesting guy and I could write a few volumes just about him. Here, though, are ten small bits of him.

1. He graduated from the University of Michigan, pre-med, in three years instead of four.

2. He had tons of quotes he would spout off, all the time. There was something for virtually every occasion. Toward the end of his life one of his favorites was, “give time, time.” Huh?the thing about smart people is that they seem crazy to dumb people

3. He took us to Israel when I was a kid and he brought back a shofar (ram’s horn) that he would sound at the Jewish High Holy Days. My brother has the shofar and continues the tradition.

4. He would wake up very early in the morning and read, mostly non-fiction. He had volumes and volumes of books on art, history, religion, anthropology, etc. They are all annotated with his underlines and comments, and many of them have accompanying articles tucked inside. He would correspond with authors and public figures too, and this was long before the internet.

5. He would cross the bridge to Canada to eat a burger because he didn’t want anyone to see him and report back to my mother about his indulgence.

6. He warned my brother that he might get cancer after purchasing a house near a radio tower. Sadly, it was my dad who got cancer.

7. My dad’s primary site for his cancer was in his brain. He was given a three month prognosis. He died seven years later. Long enough to walk me down the aisle. Long enough to meet my son.

8. It rained on the morning of my wedding. The venue called to say they were moving the ceremony inside. My father said no. He insisted that they stick to the original plan. It was a beautiful outdoor wedding, just as I had envisioned.

9. My dad’s mother lived a very long life. Up until the end she lived independently. My dad would often visit her and take a nap on her couch.

10. The last thing my dad said to me as he lay dying, robbed of most speech by Parkinson’s Disease, was, “I love you.”