Holocaust Survivor and a Dose of Perspective...

I read Torah every few weeks at a local synagogue (not the one I usually attend).

This morning, while I rolled Tonka in the stroller, I was feeling a bit low, given my rough week.

When I arrived, I saw that the entire service was being led by the synagogue youth group. They were doing a fine job, but I definitely thought, "whoa, I'm feeling down, but whatever is going on with me, puberty is far worse!"

But, that's not the story I want to tell...

The real story is that in the middle of the service the Rabbi calls up one of his congregants, Nessie Godin, to announce her upcoming 80th birthday.

Nessie is somewhat well known in the DC Jewish community for her Holocaust-memorial related activities. She also happens to be the grandmother of one my high school classmates.

The Rabbi turns to the congregation and says:

"Some of you may know that Nessie is a Holocaust survivor and I bet there were times when she never thought she would make it to 80 years old."

Then, Nessie begins speaking. She's got an authentic, eastern European accent that added to the moment.

"You know, I look around today and I see all of these beautiful children leading the service and showing how much they love their religion. And it makes me really feel like we had a victory over Hitler."

My job of reading Torah wasn't done yet, but I was choked up. The woman in the 2nd row was crying. Just one of those moments to keep it real.

The Most Meaningful Comment...

It's no secret that I love when people comment on the blog. Even more so, I love people engage in conversations with each other via the comments.

And with all due respect to my top commenters, the one on this post is the most meaningful by far. It makes all of my efforts worthwhile. Thank you, Kristen!

I encourage you to read the comments of your fellow readers. It enriches the experience. And, if you are so inclined, add your own.

Bedtime Stories...

My mother-in-law is a great reader. She's also a published author.

When she reads stories, she reads with a soft cadence that brings the listener into the words of the book.

For whatever reason, she was my inspiration tonight as I read two books (this one and this one)to the kids.

They have each heard the book dozens of times, but I could sense their focus tonight.

With each word, I imagined-and I know this sounds corny-the word getting implanted on their brains, expanding their vocabularies, and enabling them to picture ideas and images in their minds.

A moment of truly being present...and a gift.

Beeindruckt...

When you learn a foreign language, there are specific moments when you learn a new word and that moment is stuck in your head, for whatever reason.

I lived in Germany in the summer of 1994, I had the good fortune of a host family in Munich, the Daunderers.

One day, I was sitting in their kitchen and I was stuck in communicating. I needed the word "impression" as in "I am impressed."

Tine, one of the children of the family (she was about 24 or so at the time) taught me the word, "beeindrucken."

A few days later, I was crossing a bridge in Regensburg, Germany (the site of my summer program) and I managed to seriously impress my two friends, Laura and Anuj by pulling this word out in a conversation. [How I remember this, I don't know.]

I had a flashback to those two moments today because after my run with Paco, I stopped off at a playground and overheard a woman speaking to her son in German. I asked "Kommen Sie aus Deutschland?" [are you from Germany?]

That began a 30 minute conversation in German [I was ecstatic about a chance to practice] about what led me to Germany, etc.  At one point, I was stalled and, then the word "beeindrucken" popped into my head. I pumped my fist in celebration and continued the conversation.

When I got home, I called the my 'host mother' Daunderer to remind her and thank Tine for the education 13 years ago.

Funny how some moments are 'impressed' upon your brain.

Feeling...

Emily Waldman (a friend from high school) once made a profound comment to me.

"When I listen to my discman [pre-iPod era], I think of the music as the soundtrack to my life."

I was playing with Paco today in the basement. You know the game where you can't let the balloon hit the ground...

Eventually, he makes his way over to our CD tower (which we never use, of course) and pulls out Music from the Movies.

What the heck? I put it on for him and we continue to play.

It's amazing, though how music can really create a mood for you.

The first song (they were all instrumental versions) was "I Will Always Love You," from The Bodyguard (haven't seen it).

But Paco and I seemed to have the same reaction.

We both calmed down. He curled up next to me.

I felt a glow within me and I realized that my kids have given me something...the ability to FEEL in a whole new way, that I didn't have before.

My brother-in-law [this would be my wife's brother] said to me before Calanit was born.

"You love your wife, yes, but you REALLY love your kids. You'll see."

He's right, of course, and I thought how this song "I Will Always Love You" does refer to the way that I feel about them. Despite the fact that they will, unfortunately and most likely, do things that anger, disappoint, frustrate, and upset me.  No matter what I will indeed always love them.

And it was that feeling I was experiencing and of which I was acutely aware at that moment. And one that I knew I hadn't had in the pre-kid days.

This song was the soundtrack of my life at that moment. It was, in music, reflecting the emotion of the story that is my life.

Remember (the) Maine...

One of the rallying cries of the 1898 Spanish-American War was "Remember the Maine!"

It is one of my rallying cries as well, but for a different reason.

In the summer of 1993, I had a girlfriend named Becca who was working as a camp counselor in Maine.

One Saturday morning in synagogue, my brother Barak turns to me and says, "hey, what about jumping in the car tonight after the Sabbath ends, driving all night to Maine, spending the day with Becca and then driving back all night? You'll be back in time for work on Monday and it'll be a great memory/bonding trip for us."

I demured. I had 'obligations' on Sunday, like mowing clients' lawns, etc.

The next year, it was the first night of Rosh Hashana, a time for reflection in general, Barak says to me,

"Hey, remember that day I asked you to drive to Maine with me?"

"Sure."

"So, what did you do that day?"

It hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks. Instead of choosing to make a lifelong memory, I had chosen to not make one.

Since then, when faced with a moment's opportunity that would be lasting and most likely never come again, I have said to myself, "Remember [the] Maine!" and it's allowed me to focus on what is important.

About 3 weeks ago, I received an invitation to the wedding of a friend I met in Japan. I knew he was engaged, but wasn't sure we would be invited. What's more, I hadn't received a "Save the Date" or anything like that.

Well, the invite came and while I was intrinsically motivated to go, I thought of the numerous practical considerations.

1. time and cost associated with a mid-summer cross-country trip to Oakland
2. leaving my wife to care for our kids while I went on a non-work essential trip
3. the fact that I would be REALLY tired in doing a there and back in 24-48 hours

Usually, I get an invite and send it back the next day. I know immediately if I am in or out.

This time, I waffled. I even wrote a long note (which I didn't send) to my friend apologizing for not being able to make it. I put it in the outgoing mail pile. Then, something made me take it out.

I continued to mull. Very unusual.

I called another friend from Japan, named John [for those of you who have heard the term 'good value', he is the originator of that one]. We chatted. Well, he really listened and I thought out loud.

When, all was said and done, I knew what had to be done.

Thankfully, the money won't break me. Yes, I'll be tired, but you know what? I'm always tired :-)

I have an opportunity to create a lifelong memory. In 25 years, what will I remember and cherish more?

Ticket is booked. 48 hours to/from Oakland.

Remember the Maine!

Father's Day in a whole new light...

I wasn't just teary eyed. I was sobbing. Weeping. Literally.

Three pages into Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters (Calanit's Father's Day gift to me based on a recommendation from her mother's boss), I was an emotional wreck.

Immediately, I was regretting the mistakes I had made as a father to date and thankful that, relatively speaking, I still had ample time to fix them.

For anyone with a daughter for whom he cares, this book is a MUST read.

As I read on and on (157 pages on the 1st night alone and up until 1am), I thought back to the evening 3.5 years ago and the Birth of Calanit Dora Epstein. I told people that on that day, "gun ownership started making sense to me."

This was a girl, a precious being, that it was my duty to protect and defend. I insisted that I was preparing myself for the day when she would confront "the enemy." And, as I said, "I know the enemy because I WAS the enemy."

This book reignited that fervent passion for the duty I have undertaken. And it's probably high time to go back and reread the great collection of Advice on Fatherhood from all of you.

I am not joking about this.

The book, written by a female doctor whose evidence, anecdote, and experiences stem from her medical perspective, highlights the increased risk that girls (and she's only talking about girls in this book) when a strong father figure isn't involved.

• increase risk of depression, drug use, and multiple sexual partners
• inability to form close, meaningful relationships (particularly with men)
• increase risk of STD's

Some folks may see this and laugh or challenge the findings, but I am not willing to bet my daughter's life on their opinion. I am going to bet on my own.

I've said that "whoever says a boy and a girl are the same, doesn't have a boy and a girl" and what I meant by that was how they behaved, less so how I treated them. Up until now, I've joked about a double standard in how I treat them with regards to the pressures and risks they face in the world. Now, I am not joking. I am more than ok with the idea of a double standard.

The world treats young girls differently than young boys. The dangers are different, so I've got to prepare my kids differently and you know what? That's what I am going to do.

Every boy, growing up, has a big dream. A firefighter, a basketball/football player, president, etc. What do they have in common, the author asks?  Well, every boy wants to be a HERO.

"Idiot!" she basically yells, "there is someone who thinks you are a hero already and she's living in your house!" [and it's not your wife :-)..my addition there]

Her view of men is going to be shaped by what you say and do. How you defend her. How you expect her to behave. It's a massive, massive, massive responsibility but the consequences of abdicating that responsibility are, for her, potentially enormous. You can't afford to do that. And I am not going to.

I was speaking with two friends at synagogue this morning. One, a woman, whose father has since passed, was equally emotional as I explained the impact of this book on me, told of her father and how he was, in fact, her hero. It made me think of Poppy and the relationship he had with his daughters.

The other friend referred to an article in today's Wall St. Journal about a woman, now in her mid-thirties, whose father died when she was 8 and how, to this day, the impact his character has had on her.

It's easy to think that we have all of the time in the world, but we don't. And it's important to remember. You never know what might happen to you or, God Forbid, your kid (see Book Review: A Legacy of Hope).

At 11pm last night, I was so emotionally charged, I wanted to go and wake up the Tonka, just to give her a hug. Luckily, I got talked out of it, but I made sure today that I was fully present and aware of what I was doing in my interactions with her.

Did I spend every minute with her? No. Dote on her? No. Grant her every wish? Absolutely not. That's not what strong fathers do. What they do is mold character, demonstrate a life of character, listen, defend, and, most importantly perhaps, simply pay attention.

Tonight, as I read Calanit the story of "Cinderella" from Disney's Princess Collection, I was struck by how this fairy tale was probably shaping her view of the world...that she too was a princess, that she too would find her prince charming.

And, if I do my job right, she will, but she'll find one that her father approves. And she'll do it on her own because of the nature of the relationship that we will have built will lead her to the conclusion that that is the only right choice to make.

Of course, if she does make a mistake, I'll be there for her with a big hug...and for him, I'll get the shotgun.