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My father did reach out to me a number of times. I, however, could not bring myself to answer his messages. I was afraid that somehow he would rob me of the peace and happiness I had found, and reawaken old and painful memories...
Remembering my Father
“Don’t say that,” our father said, shaking his forefinger. “Mr. Malamud is all alone in the world. His children, his family, everyone went before him. It’s a curse I don’t wish on no one.”
I love my father because when I bow my head, close my eyes and think for a moment about who I am, my father is there. To want my father I just have to be his son...
Who defied Pharaoh's decree and risked their lives to carry, give birth to and nurse these children? Now that the children are to be counted, the mothers are no longer noteworthy?
It’s the first dialogue there is between a father and his son in the Torah. It starts like this: Isaac to Abraham: “My father?” Abraham to Isaac: “Here I am, my son.”
Coke? My father was buying Coke!? My mother was an avowed health food nut, and Coke was not a part of our household staples. My father responded with a conspiratorial wink. I knew that look well . . .
After the prayers were finished, the chassid went over to one of the guests and said very quickly in a soft, murmuring voice: “Werurygoigtdy?”
Bennie's memorabilia, cherished pieces of his life, remain hidden in a large container, reminders of another time, an era when handshakes sealed a business deal, when families gathered around the table sharing laughter and funny stories, when letters were...
A Tribute to My Father
I have lost someone who loved me. The thought takes my breath away. I watch the dirt fall onto the plain wooden coffin, and I know that my father's body is in that box...
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