To all my readers who sent me notes privately and wrote comments on my first blog, I want you to know how much I appreciate your kindness.
This is my second posting and I want to continue on the family theme. I would like to dedicate this blog to fathers everywhere and especially my father, Louis Small [Eliezer David] a"h, who left us and this world on September 9th,1980 / 28th Elul 5740.
My dad was a wonderful man. He was a great husband, a super father and a loving grandfather. He was kind. He was good natured and he really cared about the next person. He would give you the shirt off his back, if that was what you needed. Our family was the most important part of his life.
When my brother Yitzchak and I were children, he was always there for us. No matter the situation. He would do anything for his children.
My dad would speak softly, but directly to me, never down to me. When I had a problem we would go for a walk or a drive in the country and talk all the way. He made every problem seem not so bad.
My daddy would help me with my homework. One time, when I was ten years old, I had a geography project from school. I had to make a scrapbook about each province in Canada and say what it was known for. Now I had weeks to get this project done, but I procrastinated and before I knew it the project was due. I had information only on one province.
It was late at night and I couldn't sleep. I was so worried about the trouble I was in. At ten o'clock in the evening, I finally told my parents my problem. My father was really upset with me, but he told me that he would try and help me out and that I should go to sleep.
A few minutes later he was out of the house and drove to the train station. Since I lived in Montreal, The Canadian National Railways had a very large station underneath the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, that was opened all the time. My father was able to get me great information on every province.
Five o'clock in the morning, he woke me up and said, "here is your information, now get to work." I worked like I never worked in my life. By eight thirty, when I had to go to school, my project was more than half finished. I told my teacher that I would hand in my project after lunch.
In those days, we came home for lunch. I finished my project while munching on a sandwich. I couldn't believe it. My project was completed. I thanked my father a million times for getting me the information that I needed. I promised him that I would never procrastinate again. To this very day, I never procrastinate.
Daddy, even though twenty-eight years have passed, I remember our last days together, as if it were just today. It was Moetzi Shabbos, the night of Selichot. For some reason I just felt the need to cook for Yom Tov. I went to Selichot, and when I came home I just couldn't go to bed, so I cooked all night.
Eight o'clock Sunday morning Mommy called and said that you had a heart attack during the night and that I should come to Montreal. I told her I would get the next flight out. I then understood what I was feeling all night. By Sunday afternoon, I was at your bedside. Yitzchak arrived from Detroit a couple of hours later. We spent as much time as the hospital would allow us to visit with you and talk to your doctors.
Tuesday morning you told Mommy that you wanted to speak to each of us alone. You somehow knew you were dying, but you didn't say so. You told me to go home and be with my family for Yom Tov. Yom Tov was Wednesday night. When I protested that my family was in good hands, you told me not to argue, and that I could come back after Yom Tov. What I didn't realize was that you were saying good-bye.
With a heavy heart, Yitzchak and I returned to our respective homes. From Montreal to Hamilton the flight is a little over an hour. I arrived in Hamilton in time to go and pick up the girls from school.
As we entered the hall of our apartment building, I could hear the phone ringing. It was Mommy, saying that you had just passed away. Two hours later, Yitzchak and I were on our way back to Montreal.
Daddy, in your memory, I wrote this poem.
Twenty-eight years have passed,
where has the time gone,
since you were taken from us
to a better world above.
So many grandchildren do you have
and great-grandchildren too!
Oh how we miss your presence....
in our daily lives,
to share a simchah,
or to comfort us
after a good cry.
We know you are watching over us
from your resting place
and smiling down on us
as we live in this place.
Nine years ago Mommy left us
to join you in paradise.
We miss you both so very much
that no words can every say.
The younger generation lost out
on knowing two special people.
Oh how they would have loved to bounce
and sit and play upon your knee.
And the nachas
you both could have shepped
when they entertained
so proudly they remain!
Now to bring you up to date
more that thirty great-grandchildren
you now have.
So many of the children
share you looks,
and your talents.
Daddy, now it is time to end my poem
two more lines to say.
We love and miss you everyday
NEVER FORGOTTEN in any way.
Some 'father quotes' to enjoy.
..A father carries pictures where his money used to be.
..A father is someone you look up to no matter how tall you grow.
..Any man can be a father. I takes someone special to be a dad.
..It's not the fishin'..It's the time together. Author Unknown
..Life doesn't come with an instruction book; that's why we have fathers.
H Jackson Brown, Jr.
..Some times the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance.
Ruth E. Renkel.
..The first man a little girl falls in love with is her Dad.
..The most important thing that a father can do for is children is to love their mother. Theodore M. Hesburgh
..What do I owe my father? Everything! Henry Van Dyke.
4 years: My Daddy can do anything!
7 years: My Dad knows a lot..a whole lot.
8 years: My father does not know quite everything.
12 years: Oh well, naturally Father does not know that either.
14 years: Oh, Father? He is hopelessly old fashioned.
21 years: Oh, that man is out of date!
25 years: He knows a little bit about it, but not much.
30 years: I must find out what Dad thinks about it.
35 years: Before we decide, we will get Dad's idea first.
50 years: What would Dad have thought about it?
60 years: My Dad knew literally everything!
65 years: I wish I could talk it over with Dad once more. Anonymous
Some fathers are great cooks. Others like to bake.
Here is an easy cookie recipe that fathers can whip up and show off their talents.
SAFTA'S SPECIAL COOKIES
1 cup sugar
7/8 cup oil
1 package baking powder [3 teaspoons]
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon orange or lemon juice
2 1/2 cups flour
Beat sugar, eggs, oil & juice.
Add baking powder and continue beating
Add flour and mix together until well blended.
Line cookie pans with baking paper
using 2 teaspoons, drop cookie mixture.
Sprinkle a mixture of cinnamon and sugar
[optional toppings] coconut, coloured candy sprinkles, sesame seeds or a drop of jam in the center of the cookie.
Bake at 190c for 10/12 minutes or until brown.
Let cool for 5 minutes before removing from pan.
Makes 5 dozen medium cookies.
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Thank-you for reading my blog. I hope you enjoyed it. Fill free to comment.
I want to wish all my readers and their families.....
GMAR CHATIMA TOVA