Yesterday was something of a
tough day for my family.
We had my father’s unveiling on this day, and our family gathered to honor my dad and his great legacy.
The day was supposed to be a rainy one, but it held up well for the relatively brief ceremony, where we basically “unveil” the tombstone where a loved one is buried.
My mother did not want a lot of people at this ceremony for a variety of reasons, and she got her wish, with less than 20 people attending the outdoor service.
My mother also did not want a rabbi or a cantor to attend, so I pretty much officiated, as well as my sister. My mother insisted that I wear my Yankees cap as I said what I had to say, because baseball—and the Yankees—was a touchstone for my father during his life, and she felt it was important for me to wear that cap during the service, so it took the place of the traditional head covering—the yarmulke—as we honored my father.
I think he would have loved that little touch to the ceremony.
It took us a little while longer than we thought to reach the gravesite, because there was a large funeral with a lot of cars that kind of blocked us from moving, and when we finally were able to move, we got a little bit lost in the cemetery, which in a funny way, I do think my father had a hand in.
As a cab driver, he knew New York City like the palm of his hand, but anywhere else, he was completely clueless, and he often got lost while driving … so why not have us get a little lost before his unveiling?
It was only fitting … but we finally got there after a couple of U-turns and scratches of our heads, and once there, we proceeded to exit our cars and surround the gravesite in unison as the ceremony began.
There were tears, there was even some laughter, but it was generally a solemn occasion, we said what we had to say, the proper prayers were read in both Hebrew and English, and we unveiled my father’s gravestone, which we covered with a talis, or the ceremonial shawl that one gets when they are bar mitzvahed.
When we had said the prayers, each of us then placed a rock on the top of the gravestone, which not only marks the spot but shows that we were there to pay respects to my father.
And then it was over.
Here is what I said, and really, nothing more needs to be said.
Anyone who knows my father knows that what I said really hit the nail on the head about him, and what drove him—physically and literally—throughout his life.
He has been gone since last Labor Day, but I think about him each and every day … and I always will.
“Welcome to everyone here today.
We are here to honor my father today, with the unveiling of his stone.
Although I did not want my speech to be religious in nature, I discovered that today is also Tisha B’av, the saddest day on the Jewish calendar.
Ending at sunset tonight, this is a period of commemorating tragedies that happened throughout our Jewish history, including the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem twice and several other tragedies that befell the Jewish people over the generations.
However, the belief is that when the day of final redemption comes, Tisha B’av will be transformed into a day of celebration.
So it is natural for Jews to be upset and a little down today, because today is not a day to rejoice, but a day to mourn.
But my father would not want us to mourn today. That was not his nature, so let’s look into this pillar of our family, and when I say the word “family,” that is what my father lived for, from a young child growing up on the Lower East Side to when he had his own family as an adult and matured into the male pillar of our family.
He was brought up to put family first. He learned this from his parents, who came here with nothing but spirit and hope and ended up living the true American Dream.
My father was their first child, and they instilled in him a “family first” mentality that he carried throughout his life.
He was so proud of his family. He was so proud of not only his parents, but his siblings often spoke about how he, his brother and his two sisters came from such humble beginnings, and along with their parents, became the true All-American family.
He often told others about how proud he was of his sisters, two teachers putting our young people on the right road to a positive future.
He was also very, very proud of his brother, the kid who he protected as a child and who grew up to be a doctor.
And when he had his own family, my father was the proudest person when talking about his own children, myself and my sister Gail, and every time we reached a new challenge, how we somehow were able to surmount it and move onto another challenge.
My father always wanted a large family, and he got his larger family when his children married. When I married Elena, he got the second daughter he always wanted, and when Gail married Bob, he got the second son he always wanted.
And his grandchildren … he spoke volumes about how much he loved the next generation of the family. It began with Meredith, and then Matthew, and then Michael and Joshua and Brandon. Five grandchildren? Wow!
But he was most proud of one person above all others. He was the proudest of Phyllis, his wife, my mother, and the grandmother of the five grandkids.
He often had to pinch himself to see if marrying her was nothing but a dream, but every time he did that, he found out that his dream girl was REAL.
Every need that he had was fulfilled by my mother, and he often said that the best thing that ever happened to him was that he met my mother, even though that to his dying day, he never learned how to spell her name correctly.
I think that history changed, the world spun on its axis with a different tilt when the two of them met, and well, like they say, the rest is history.
So here we are in Tisha B’av, and we are supposed to mourn today. Yes, there will be tears today as my father’s grave is unveiled, but he would not want us to mourn.
We have had many months to mourn, so I, at least, am going to look at today as that day of redemption, a day of celebration that I spoke about a little earlier, at least for our family.
I do believe that is what my father would have wanted.”
We had my father’s unveiling on this day, and our family gathered to honor my dad and his great legacy.
The day was supposed to be a rainy one, but it held up well for the relatively brief ceremony, where we basically “unveil” the tombstone where a loved one is buried.
My mother did not want a lot of people at this ceremony for a variety of reasons, and she got her wish, with less than 20 people attending the outdoor service.
My mother also did not want a rabbi or a cantor to attend, so I pretty much officiated, as well as my sister. My mother insisted that I wear my Yankees cap as I said what I had to say, because baseball—and the Yankees—was a touchstone for my father during his life, and she felt it was important for me to wear that cap during the service, so it took the place of the traditional head covering—the yarmulke—as we honored my father.
I think he would have loved that little touch to the ceremony.
It took us a little while longer than we thought to reach the gravesite, because there was a large funeral with a lot of cars that kind of blocked us from moving, and when we finally were able to move, we got a little bit lost in the cemetery, which in a funny way, I do think my father had a hand in.
As a cab driver, he knew New York City like the palm of his hand, but anywhere else, he was completely clueless, and he often got lost while driving … so why not have us get a little lost before his unveiling?
It was only fitting … but we finally got there after a couple of U-turns and scratches of our heads, and once there, we proceeded to exit our cars and surround the gravesite in unison as the ceremony began.
There were tears, there was even some laughter, but it was generally a solemn occasion, we said what we had to say, the proper prayers were read in both Hebrew and English, and we unveiled my father’s gravestone, which we covered with a talis, or the ceremonial shawl that one gets when they are bar mitzvahed.
When we had said the prayers, each of us then placed a rock on the top of the gravestone, which not only marks the spot but shows that we were there to pay respects to my father.
And then it was over.
Here is what I said, and really, nothing more needs to be said.
Anyone who knows my father knows that what I said really hit the nail on the head about him, and what drove him—physically and literally—throughout his life.
He has been gone since last Labor Day, but I think about him each and every day … and I always will.
“Welcome to everyone here today.
We are here to honor my father today, with the unveiling of his stone.
Although I did not want my speech to be religious in nature, I discovered that today is also Tisha B’av, the saddest day on the Jewish calendar.
Ending at sunset tonight, this is a period of commemorating tragedies that happened throughout our Jewish history, including the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem twice and several other tragedies that befell the Jewish people over the generations.
However, the belief is that when the day of final redemption comes, Tisha B’av will be transformed into a day of celebration.
So it is natural for Jews to be upset and a little down today, because today is not a day to rejoice, but a day to mourn.
But my father would not want us to mourn today. That was not his nature, so let’s look into this pillar of our family, and when I say the word “family,” that is what my father lived for, from a young child growing up on the Lower East Side to when he had his own family as an adult and matured into the male pillar of our family.
He was brought up to put family first. He learned this from his parents, who came here with nothing but spirit and hope and ended up living the true American Dream.
My father was their first child, and they instilled in him a “family first” mentality that he carried throughout his life.
He was so proud of his family. He was so proud of not only his parents, but his siblings often spoke about how he, his brother and his two sisters came from such humble beginnings, and along with their parents, became the true All-American family.
He often told others about how proud he was of his sisters, two teachers putting our young people on the right road to a positive future.
He was also very, very proud of his brother, the kid who he protected as a child and who grew up to be a doctor.
And when he had his own family, my father was the proudest person when talking about his own children, myself and my sister Gail, and every time we reached a new challenge, how we somehow were able to surmount it and move onto another challenge.
My father always wanted a large family, and he got his larger family when his children married. When I married Elena, he got the second daughter he always wanted, and when Gail married Bob, he got the second son he always wanted.
And his grandchildren … he spoke volumes about how much he loved the next generation of the family. It began with Meredith, and then Matthew, and then Michael and Joshua and Brandon. Five grandchildren? Wow!
But he was most proud of one person above all others. He was the proudest of Phyllis, his wife, my mother, and the grandmother of the five grandkids.
He often had to pinch himself to see if marrying her was nothing but a dream, but every time he did that, he found out that his dream girl was REAL.
Every need that he had was fulfilled by my mother, and he often said that the best thing that ever happened to him was that he met my mother, even though that to his dying day, he never learned how to spell her name correctly.
I think that history changed, the world spun on its axis with a different tilt when the two of them met, and well, like they say, the rest is history.
So here we are in Tisha B’av, and we are supposed to mourn today. Yes, there will be tears today as my father’s grave is unveiled, but he would not want us to mourn.
We have had many months to mourn, so I, at least, am going to look at today as that day of redemption, a day of celebration that I spoke about a little earlier, at least for our family.
I do believe that is what my father would have wanted.”
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