Father’s Day has come and gone, but – to quote my parents – that’s just a “Hallmark Day.” Fathers are truly special every day. I know, I live with a man who is both an incredibly special husband, and a so very special father. But more on him another time.
My father was an amazing self-made man. His father, a door-to-door salesman, died when my dad was quite young. My dad, not only put himself through college, and eventually post-graduate school as well, but also aided his younger and older brothers (throughout his life, as far as I can see). First a math teacher, then a successful accountant, he eventually became an accomplished sculptor and bonsai artist.
How he nurtured his children! In the fall, my brother and I would go on Sunday morning walks in the park with him and collect the many-colored leaves. He loved nature, and most of all trees. I am sure that much is in the genes. I have always loved plants, as he did. He fostered my appreciation of music as well, and encouraged my pursuit of the violin. Every Saturday he accompanied me on the long subway ride from the Bronx to Brooklyn, where I went for the weekly rehearsals of the New York Youth Symphony, of which I was a member.
And speaking of genes, I only belatedly learned that my dad’s favorite opera was his mom’s favorite opera, which is one of mine as well! – “The pearl Fishers” by Bizet. Not a coincidence; it’s in the blood. (Wish I could say the same about his genius with numbers!)