“He was calling to tell me…”

Dad and me (age 4) in Moissac, France, 1988

Dad and me (age 4) in Moissac, France, 1988

I’ve written before about the grief of losing a parent. It’s a thing I carry with me everywhere, in ways I never anticipated. But I lucked out with both my parents: my dad is a really, really good guy. He’s a good dad, and over the last several years I’ve learned a lot about him.

When JUF News sent out a call for articles about relationships, I knew I had to write about him, and to write about this. This personal essay, which is very meaningful to me, is now in the February print issue of JUF News and online. You can read it here: My dad, the mensch.

Hug the ones you love. Tell them you love them early and often. Not just in case of tragedy, but, I hope, because it’s true.

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This entry was published on February 6, 2014 at 9:28 am. It’s filed under Nonfiction, Outside Work and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

4 thoughts on ““He was calling to tell me…”

  1. Janina Greth on said:

    Awesome, Esther. 

  2. Emily Gigs on said:

    One, that photo is delightful. (If only I could find TinyEsther’s coat in a grownup size!)
    Two, <3333333333333333333333333333333333333333

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