I have
written almost 600 commentaries since February, 2013, when my younger, handsomer brother, Tim was able
to motivate me into writing my views on the issues of the day, much like my
mentor and friend, Mayor Ed Koch did at least once a week until he passed. Tim and I
don't agree on too many things politically, and
out of respect for each other, we rarely, if ever, talk politics, or
religion for that matter.
But
his point to me was that there was an audience out there who would agree with
me on most things, would find my viewpoints inspiring, or at least interesting,
and would eventually look forward to my commentaries. As the
older brother, I have to admit that after
almost four years, he is right.
I have over 3,000 followers on Twitter, almost 900 friends on Facebook and
several hundred connections on LinkedIn.
Over the years, I have, I
admit, written mostly about politics, history and social issues, always with an eye to the Constitution. But I
have also written about sports (my Mets,
usually), several movie reviews, Christmas music on Veterans Day (what's up
with that?), our military and veterans (and our need to support them, even as
we may oppose the wars), and other issues of interest, at least to me.
I
have also written about my family, my siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, and
my parents.
And that is who I want to write about today. As you know, my Dad passed in March, and while he was
very ill over the last six months (ironic how that always is), he was
still trying to be a party guy. He loved his Sinatra; put on a CD, and he
would sing his heart out, as weak as he was.
Or, put on a favorite movie or TV show, like Downtown Abbey, and you
could hear his boisterous laugh roaring through the house. And, God
knows, he LOVED Moonstruck, as he could recite the lines of the movie, as
he secretly admired Cher (ok, it
wasn't a secret, but Mom knew she
had his heart)
Until he was unable anymore to stand for long stretches, he
would look across the room, or the porch, for the love of his life, Nancy, my
Mom, and stroll her across the dance floor to a Lindy, or Fox Trot, or even a
really slow dance, holding her tightly and never letting her go.
That was
my Dad and Mom always, from the time I was a kid.
Today is the first
Thanksgiving he isn't with us, and I can assure you, he is truly missed. His laugh, his voice, his sage advice to his
children, and especially to his
grandchildren, won't be heard around the table this year. No "Stump the Kids", a game
where he spent DAYS preparing a couple
of hundred questions across all age and grade levels, just so each grandchild who was there could answer
five questions and "win"
five dollars.
But, he is in our thoughts and our prayers, and I can assure you, wonderful
memories of him will be discussed by everyone. For us, it will be a reflective,
but not somber or maudlin, Thanksgiving this year; he would not want it that way.
So, Happy Thanksgiving, Dad from all of us who have had the grace to know
you, to love you and to have been guided by you. As one who is spiritual, though not religious, I believe you are in a better place, with
friends and family who have passed before you, sharing stories and looking
out for those of us you had to leave
behind, much like Billy Bigelow, one
of your favorite characters from Carousel,
did.
Just like
you always did when you were here.
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