A tribute to my father
My father stood only five feet tall, very thin, balding and only had a fourth grade educati
on. Since he grew up very poor in Romania he had to go to work at the age of ten to help support a very large family. He was one of twins that survived childbirth. At the age of 16 he was taken by the Nazis into a forced labor camp with many others. He was a watchmaker by trade but told his captors he was a carpenter since there was no need for watchmakers and those with no "usable" trade were sent to concentration or death camps. Needless to say he learned carpentry very quickly.
After scrimping and saving for many years working odd jobs at anything he can get while raising a family, he made his way the US with the American dream firmly planted in his sights. He worked harder than ever, got his green card and became a naturalized US citizen with great pride. We lived in modest 1 bedroom apartment is Washington Heights, New York, but he wanted better for my sister and me so he worked even harder to buy the only home he and my mother ever owned, in Forest Hills, New York.
He routinely got up at 5:00 AM went to work, came home around 5:30 PM, ate dinner and went downstairs to work until 11:00 PM on piecemeal that his employer graciously allowed him to take home for additional income. In other words, he busted his hump 6 days a week to make sure my sister and I had the best possible life he can provide and he never ever complained or made a point of it. He only asked that we got good grades and finish school (sorry dad). He did and suffered far more in his life than can be written about in this blog and would literally take a book.
Sadly, he died at the age of 54 after a 9 month battle with a brain tumor. He was promoted to foreman, my sister was long married and out of the house and I was entering the workforce and reaching a point of independence. He was at a point where he could start to relax and enjoy himself in ways he 
never thought possible, but it never happened.
My dad was a survivor. To me he stood ten feet tall and had a PHD in life with a wisdom that is difficult to comprehend. Although he died in 1981, I still miss him terribly. Not a day goes by that I don't think about him or wonder what he would in a particular situation. His incredible sense of honor, work ethic, morality and fortitude still guides me today. I wish I understood then everything he was doing and all the sacrifices he made for my benefit.
If your dad is still with you, please don't let the opportunity fade away and enjoy every minute you can with him while you still can.
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