Starting my morning with that powerful set of memories so beautifully told. Thank you Jay.
Life’s beginnings and endings have been on my heart frequently in the last few months since my Dad’s stroke in mid-March, the loss of my beloved dog Oliver, my 6-month wedding anniversary coming on Sunday.
Markers in time, and when they converge, yeah, it makes you think. I know you're thinking about your father and appreciating him. I'm well aware -- you, too, I'm sure -- that everyone doesn't get "family" in these ways. We're fortunate people who do.
How I loved reading this! You intertwine details with insights in such a memorable way.
'He had become the sweet soul it had been in him to be': so much truth in that - how people are marred by suffering, yet still, deep down, their essence is goodness, gentleness; and, yes, there comes a time when that goodness finally glimmers, when somehow the person has been purged of their suffering. I saw that in my father in his last months.
Then, you do understand, Annette. To witness people overcome suffering in goodness is one of the amazements of life. Thanks for being such a generous reader. 🙏
So moving so may levels and will reread to go over those layers in more detail, but at this moment I want to direct you to what my daughter wrote on Gaza and Israel -- and with an allusion to Nathan Englander that's easy to miss and a reference about Jewish writers in today's world: https://divinity.uchicago.edu/sightings/articles/what-we-write-about-when-we-write-about-war-gaza xo ~Mary
Mary, thank you. I know you feel all this as I do. I will read your daughter with more than the usual interest. I took a quick glance already and saw her photo and her resemblance to you. See my comment to David below, about to come.
I stared for a long time at that picture of your great grandfather. Save a life, save a world. Everything else, so much family with all the love and heartache that family is, all of it flowed from him. And the way you wrote about all of it was lovely.
"Save a life, save a world." A life, a world -- one of my abiding themes. So interesting that you stared at Zakiah's photo like that. I can't tell you how much I have. It's that tension - the world he represents in his appearance, so different from the one into which I was born and grew. Yet just as I can glance in the mirror and see my brother, sometimes, and my father, I see my face beneath the hair and the times, in Zakiah's. I am definitely of him. And he's probably younger there than I am now. That spins my head around!
Jay - I am catching up on my reading. How serendipitous to read this on Father's Day. Thank you for this beautiful story of your family and your father. I loved all three parts but this third installment was some of your best. Thanks brother for sharing the heart of you and your people.
Fascinating. I had do go down a rabbit hole and search for Orynin. I love that image of the synagogue, and that no one knows how old it is -- It's something I' struggling with in my own research. But that emotion you had, just to realize the vilalge existed, I feel that intensely. Since I started researching that corner of the world (my grandparents were born in similar villages a few hours west) it has started to occur to me that we sometimes focus on the wrong things. The cemeteries and not the synagogues, or the houses. Seeing the synagogue really underscores how much of a loss was experienced. Many of these villages in Carpathian region had populations that were up to 20 percent Jewish. Now, as you say, no one even really knows hold old the buildings are.
Leah, thank you for these comments. Happy to make this connection. What you say is all very true. This week, in the next part, I'll be writing about my visit to Orynin two months after my father's death. (BTW, the transliterated spellings of these Ukranian place names are so variable. I keep trying to stay abreast of the latest accepted representation, but alas . . .) To the best of my knowledge, no synagogues remain in Orynin. No Jews remain. I was introduced to a woman who was *once married to a Jew*. It was marvelous serendipity when I came across that photograph. History that no one knows that origin of is central to the theme of this larger series.
So moving. And beautifully written.
Thank you, Maria, for reading and responding as you do. 🙏
Whew. 🥲🙏
Starting my morning with that powerful set of memories so beautifully told. Thank you Jay.
Life’s beginnings and endings have been on my heart frequently in the last few months since my Dad’s stroke in mid-March, the loss of my beloved dog Oliver, my 6-month wedding anniversary coming on Sunday.
Your story took me deep this morning.
Family 🙏❤️
Well, first, then, happy 6-month! Lucky man.
Markers in time, and when they converge, yeah, it makes you think. I know you're thinking about your father and appreciating him. I'm well aware -- you, too, I'm sure -- that everyone doesn't get "family" in these ways. We're fortunate people who do.
We are. I am. Thank you Jay 🙏
How I loved reading this! You intertwine details with insights in such a memorable way.
'He had become the sweet soul it had been in him to be': so much truth in that - how people are marred by suffering, yet still, deep down, their essence is goodness, gentleness; and, yes, there comes a time when that goodness finally glimmers, when somehow the person has been purged of their suffering. I saw that in my father in his last months.
Thank you for writing!
Then, you do understand, Annette. To witness people overcome suffering in goodness is one of the amazements of life. Thanks for being such a generous reader. 🙏
A pleasure!
So moving so may levels and will reread to go over those layers in more detail, but at this moment I want to direct you to what my daughter wrote on Gaza and Israel -- and with an allusion to Nathan Englander that's easy to miss and a reference about Jewish writers in today's world: https://divinity.uchicago.edu/sightings/articles/what-we-write-about-when-we-write-about-war-gaza xo ~Mary
Mary, thank you. I know you feel all this as I do. I will read your daughter with more than the usual interest. I took a quick glance already and saw her photo and her resemblance to you. See my comment to David below, about to come.
Jay,
I stared for a long time at that picture of your great grandfather. Save a life, save a world. Everything else, so much family with all the love and heartache that family is, all of it flowed from him. And the way you wrote about all of it was lovely.
"Save a life, save a world." A life, a world -- one of my abiding themes. So interesting that you stared at Zakiah's photo like that. I can't tell you how much I have. It's that tension - the world he represents in his appearance, so different from the one into which I was born and grew. Yet just as I can glance in the mirror and see my brother, sometimes, and my father, I see my face beneath the hair and the times, in Zakiah's. I am definitely of him. And he's probably younger there than I am now. That spins my head around!
Jay - I am catching up on my reading. How serendipitous to read this on Father's Day. Thank you for this beautiful story of your family and your father. I loved all three parts but this third installment was some of your best. Thanks brother for sharing the heart of you and your people.
Thank you for reading so generously, brother.
Fascinating. I had do go down a rabbit hole and search for Orynin. I love that image of the synagogue, and that no one knows how old it is -- It's something I' struggling with in my own research. But that emotion you had, just to realize the vilalge existed, I feel that intensely. Since I started researching that corner of the world (my grandparents were born in similar villages a few hours west) it has started to occur to me that we sometimes focus on the wrong things. The cemeteries and not the synagogues, or the houses. Seeing the synagogue really underscores how much of a loss was experienced. Many of these villages in Carpathian region had populations that were up to 20 percent Jewish. Now, as you say, no one even really knows hold old the buildings are.
Leah, thank you for these comments. Happy to make this connection. What you say is all very true. This week, in the next part, I'll be writing about my visit to Orynin two months after my father's death. (BTW, the transliterated spellings of these Ukranian place names are so variable. I keep trying to stay abreast of the latest accepted representation, but alas . . .) To the best of my knowledge, no synagogues remain in Orynin. No Jews remain. I was introduced to a woman who was *once married to a Jew*. It was marvelous serendipity when I came across that photograph. History that no one knows that origin of is central to the theme of this larger series.