I have discovered a sure fire cure for grief. You hop into a small airplane, climb to 10,000 feet, and then jump out. When you are free falling at 120 mph I promise you it is impossible to be sad. When your chute opens you are euphoric and when you land safely on the ground you are happy to be alive.
I returned from Schenectady this afternoon after helping with preparations for my father’s memorial service which will be held on Sunday. My father loved autumn and I know he would have paused at this tree as did I to marvel at its beauty.
My father was a collector of books, music, and video. This is a small closet off of his study where he housed a collection of recorded CDs. Other similarly well-organized archives for different media (LPs, cassettes, DVDs, books, VHS) can be found throughout the house. It was his wish that his collection be donated to a library where it might one day be enjoyed by others.
When I was in high school I built this digital clock from various components I had collected. When I left for college I gave it to my dad and for the last 35 years, it has been a fixture on the desk in his study. It has marked every minute of my adult life and I take no small pleasure from knowing that he looked at it every day.
On the day before he died, my father, as was his routine, practiced the guitar for an hour. He was also strong enough to do a little exercise within the house.
I leave now to join my mother and siblings in Schenectady. My father loved sunsets and the beauty of fall foliage. I believe it no coincidence that I will make this drive on a day when both are sure to be extraordinary.
If I become half the man, half the father, and half the husband that my father was then I will consider myself a great success.
Known to thousands of Union College students as Crazy Frank and later in his life as the Silver Fox, my father was a professor of psychology known for his innovative teaching methods and courses. He often held classes in Jackson Garden, lecturing from the branches of a Ginko tree.
A true Renaissance man, my father was as athletic as he was intellectual. I don’t think he ever watched a single sporting event on TV but he remained physically active to the very end of his life.
My father remained a child at heart throughout his life. He related equally well to people of all ages but nothing gave him as much pleasure as playing with children. His creativity led to the invention of countless games and activities which will long be remembered by his nine grandchildren.
My father loved music and was a life long student of the guitar. What he lacked in natural musical talent (the gift of his brother, Ernie, a professional musician) he made up for with disciplined practice and hard work. He loved the fact that Kyle shared this interest with him.
No single theme better defined my father’s life than dance. This photo is from the the cover of his book, “Let it Be a Dance”. He financed his college education by teaching ballroom dancing, it is how he met my mother, and it has been their life long passion as a couple.
Above all else, my father loved and adored my mother. He often told me how lucky he felt to have married such a talented and beautiful woman. He was indeed lucky in love.