
Death is so surreal. It’s been 10 years and honestly still feels so strange that my Father isn’t here. There are so many moments that I miss sharing with him and I know he would adore my two boys.
My Dad was an amazing writer and always helped me strive to articulate my thoughts. He was always incredibly proud of my creative outlets, so as an iluy Neshama, an ascension of his Soul, I thought I would share 10 lessons I learned from my Dad. Some will be lessons that have had a profound impact, and some are just the fun ones that make me smile.
For a long time, I could recall memories easily, but 10 years later as I sat down to write this, I realized how fuzzy things are. That definitely got me into the yahtzeit spirit. Thankfully, the more I sat and reflected the more the memories started flowing in.
1. Be like the humble Mann
My Dad a’h was one of the humblest people I’ve ever met. I remember when I was about 10 years old I was praying from memory instead of using a siddur (prayer book.) He came and sat down next to me and opened up my siddur for me. Later he explained that even if I know all the words by heart and could actually pray with intention (I could not…) it could make someone else feel bad so I should always keep that in mind. It was such a lesson in subtle sensitivity and has expanded to so many different areas of my life.
My Father also had a near-photographic memory and was extremely intelligent. But he never had an ego about it. I could ask him a question and he would find the exact book in his massive library and show me a source. As a kid I thought nothing of it but only as an adult I realized how impressive that was.
2. Make peace
My father had an almost magical peace-making quality. He used it in his work as a pulpit Rabbi, but I got to see it in action in our personal life. When my sister and I used to fight (us? Perfect sisters? Gasp!) My dad could just de-escalate a situation just by being there. He had this peaceful tone and energy that just helped people rise above emotions and the situation to rationally come to a resolution. I like to think that this quality passed down to me a little and feel extra close to him when I’m able to exemplify that trait.
3. Make learning fun
My father was a teacher through and through. That’s something he instilled in me. We lived about a mile away from our shul growing up and sometimes it was too cold for my Mom and sister to walk. That meant that I got alone time with my dad for 40 minutes each week and I savored it. We called ourselves Louis and Clark as we trekked through the snowy path. We could have taken the paved street path, but my Dad had a love of taking shortcuts.
We were once walking and cut across a parking lot when I was in fifth grade. He explained how the area was like a right triangle and asked me if I knew the word for the shortcut we took. I said I didn’t know and he taught me all about the hypotenuse. I told him that I didn’t need to know this yet and I would learn it in school probably years from now.
The next week at school we were doing an assessment and there was a question about the hypotenuse. My teacher almost skipped it because she said none of us would know it and I blurted out “It’s the hypotenuse!” She was blown away and I couldn’t wait to run home and tell my Dad. It showed me the value of lifelong learning, and now with my kids, I use everything as a learning opportunity.
He would make learning fun for everyone. When he was a new Rabbi, he used to take his students skiing and they would practice their Torah portion on the ski lift. He had a game with bar and bat mitzvah students that if they made a mistake he would throw a ball (gently, of course) and it made the whole experience so much more positive. I try to channel this method of making learning fun whenever I can.
4. Use that dark sense of humor (appropriately)
Unfortunately, I have quite a few friends who have also lost parents. It’s very special to be able to connect about it with them, but nothing makes me feel more comforted than a shared dark sense of humor. I know I get that from my Dad 1000% who was both hilarious and dark hilarious (not sure if that’s a thing but I just made it a thing.)
When I was in high school my paternal Bubbe passed away. My Dad found out on the phone and came over to us and said, “I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that you now only have one living grandmother. The good news is she is currently here for a visit.” My Dad was also an expert in knowing when and where to use that dark sense of humor, and this was appropriate for our family (though I’m sure some would shudder!)
I lost my father when I was abroad in Israel. When I got back, someone let me know that there was a group of other young women who had also lost parents. We would meet every few weeks and it was so healing to be around other people who got what I was going through and could navigate it together. Many of us also had a dark sense of humor and we called ourselves THE OC which stood for Orphan Club. To people without a dark sense of humor that would not be appropriate, but for us it was cathartic and a way to laugh through the darkness.
5. Do chessed like a superhero
My father lived and breathed chessed (loving-kindness/charity.) Two hours before he passed away, he learned that my best friend was in a car accident and ran over to visit her. She was the last person besides my Mom to see him.
There are so many examples of his true chessed and how both in his job and personal life did acts of chessed constantly. An example that comes to mind is an act of chessed I wouldn’t let him do.
It was a dark and stormy night (it sounds like I’m being dramatic, but it really was…) and someone called saying they are Jewish and need help. He asked where they were and they said they were about 45 minutes away at a barn. My Dad grabbed his keys and some cash and was about to head over there. I stopped him and asked what was going on and he told me. I forbade him from going and said it sounded like the start to an actual murder story. He reluctantly agreed because I was so afraid. Looking back, I still can’t believe he was about to put himself at risk to go help someone. At the same time, I think it’s also incredibly beautiful that he didn’t even consider the risk and only saw the potential to help another person.
6. “Look here”
I can still hear my friends lovingly making fun of my dad for saying “Look here” all the time when trying to show or teach something. Then it shifted to my friends making fun of me for saying it. If you’ve spent time with me you’ve probably heard me say it, but no one hears it as much as my kids.
I also have a tendency to space out at times. My Dad saw this trait in me when I was young and gave me a mantra that I still hear in my head to this day: “Focus like a laser, Adina.” I use that mantra not just in my everyday tasks that I need to focus on but also try to use it with my life goals. It forces me to really think about what I want to achieve and focus on it…like a laser.
I was talking to Erin (my sister) about this phrase and she said she also attributes it to another one of Dad’s amazing qualities.
6. Listen and hear
Oh, could my father listen. In his role as pulpit Rabbi, Erin and I used to witness my father on the phone for hours listening to people and helping guide them. With his daughters, he taught us how to really listen to others.
7. Always speak calmly
The Ramban wrote a letter to his son called the Iggeres HaRamban and one piece of advice he instills is to “Speak gently at all times.” That was so my Dad. I can maybe recall two times that he got really mad (one of them was when I crashed and totaled our car so honestly kind of warranted.) Otherwise, he always spoke gently even when the situation was volatile.
This is probably one of the most important lessons I learned from him and helps me on a daily basis. As a parent now, I see how easy it is to lose my temper when I am overwhelmed. I’m definitely not perfect, but I do use my father’s example to try my best to speak gently.
8. Feel that soul music
My Dad loved music. He grew up in the same building as Shlomo Carlebach and that influenced both his and my music style. My holy Uncle Akiva a’h inspired me to play guitar. My Dad would get this “filled with nachas” expression when I would play as we sang together and I still treasure that look. I would accompany him at Havdallah and it was such a bonding moment for us both.
The day that he passed away, we had our usual phone call before Shabbos. We had such an amazing conversation and I remember that I asked him to sing me his favorite version of a Shabbos song “Baruch Kel Elyon.” It’s been 10 years but I can hear his voice in my head like it was yesterday.
I had written a song called “Direction of my Soul” which my father absolutely loved. My Mom said he was actually listening to it on loop right before he passed away which still gives me the chills thinking about it. He taught me how to feel music in my soul and let it be an expression. I wrote a song after he passed away called “Peace” and I feel like I used his lessons to help me process his loss.
9. Practice patience
My father had incredible patience. He always had the headspace to help us with homework. One of my family’s favorite memories was when he was helping Erin with an essay in middle school. She is now a great writer, but at the time she wrote the same 5 sentences in a different way and my father lost it. I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone laugh so hard. Even through his laughter, he still had the patience to work with her and make her dolphin essay a masterpiece.
10. Don’t be a “dink” and other random life lessons that stuck
Whenever I would do something goofy or impractical my Dad would say, “Adina, don’t be a dink!” which was his affectionate term for silliness. Often, I really needed to hear it, because I did do some pretty goofy things like wear flip-flops year round (like, in the snow…)
He also had some very strict driving recommendations like:
- Always park in the shade
- REMEMBER TO COAST UP TO THE RED LIGHT (I can still hear him showing me how to while saying, “Coasting… Coasting…”)
- Take the shortcut! If he would see a light turn red, he would take the most roundabout ways to get where he was going. I know he would be proud of me as I drive around my neighborhood avoiding speed bumps.
Above all, my Dad was a great person. He sincerely loved other people and wanted the best for everyone. He loved Israel with a fierce passion and would be absolutely heartbroken at what’s going on right now and appalled at so much of the world’s response.
At my Father’s shiva, someone told me that he once asked my father how he was doing and he said “Doing good.” The person knows my father was a grammarian and asked why he didn’t say “doing well.” My father responded that it was because he was trying to do good in the world.
I’ve learned so much from him but if I could sum it up in two words it would simply be: Do good.
I really enjoyed reading this and visualizing your cherished childhood memories with your father. These life lessons are gold! Will definitely try focusing like a laser from now on 🙂