Dear Poppa:
I am asked
why I have written many stories about my relationship with Momma, but nothing
about you. I explained since Momma lived to the age of 93, my relationship with
her extended from infancy, childhood, teenager, young and middle age adult even
approaching old age, I really got to know her. You passed away at the age of 52 when I
was a young teenager. In addition, I was born on January 17, 1928 the youngest
of your five children. In 1929 you were faced with a terrible economic
depression that lasted into the 1930s. There was much unemployment and you were
faced with the difficulty of taking care of a wife and five small children. It
made sense you were unable to have a relationship with me. When the depression
ended at the end of the 1930s and in the early 1940s two of your sons were
drafted into the army, you then developed a colonoscopy problem requiring
surgery.
I was
unaware your medical problem would shortly be fatal. There were a couple of
things I did that still upset me. I remember visiting you in the Kings County
Hospital shortly after your surgery, telling you I got a part time job after
school hours, thinking that would please you. I now think that was wrong,
because it could be saying you were unable to give me an allowance. I should
have known a Yiddish expression “To be poor is not disgraceful”. I also
recall after you were home, not knowing you would shortly pass away I
complained I had only one pair of pants and was embarrassed to go anywhere.
That was a terrible thing for me to do and I beg for your forgiveness.
Momma lived
long enough so I and the other children were able to give her some segments of
the American Dream, none of which ever able to land in your lap. Frieda was
your first born and you did not want her brought up in the terrible lower East
Side of Manhattan. Your sister Mary lived in a place called Middle Village in
Queens that was still surrounded by farmland and you arranged to move there,
where we all grew up and thank you. Frieda with much justification was your
favorite child, and we are grateful you were still alive in September 1939 to
attend her wedding to Archie and in the early 1940s to know their children
Jeffrey and Larry. I recall that with your sewing ability, you made a beautiful
blue coat for small Jeffrey.
You would
have been happy with all your in-laws and grand and great grandchildren. Someday
I shall write a story introducing all of them, but in this writing, I shall
refer to my two children. My son Chaim (Carl) named after you, became and is an
important contribution to society. Equally important is my daughter Emily who
is the C.E.O. of the Massachusetts Service Alliance, that is a unique resource
for local organizations and its citizens working to better their communities. I
am sure Carl and Emily are grateful for inheriting some of your DNA.
If we ever
meet again, it will be with a hug and kiss and the beginning of the
relationship we missed. Please forgive me if there be some stains on this
writing. They were caused by the release of long held back tears.
Love and miss you.
Moishe a/k/a Ben
January 2021
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