“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.

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

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

    1. TinyEsther’s shoes are still sitting on a shelf somewhere in PresentEsther’s room in Ohio. The coat is the stuff of family legend! (Thanks, you. ♥)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s