Missing Dad

Three months ago today I lost my father. Every Friday since then has been difficult (even though it’s a good thing to die on a Friday for a Jew). I’m not crying nearly as much anymore, but I haven’t stopped longing for him and shaking my head at times with disbelief that I’ll never see him or hear from him again.

My thoughts of him give me strength as K and I go through this process of procreation. My dad was a huge fan of K and our relationship. He never doubted our commitment and loved K for her beauty and smarts. Not every lesbo gets a dad like that.

I do get a bit weak in the knees when I think about our future kid not knowing my dad personally, and that I have to rely on my poor memory and storytelling skills to bring him to life for him/her(them). I had one terrific grandfather in my daily life for 11 years; I can’t believe our kid won’t have my dad around for even a day.

Does it help that it’s another cold, wet, and dreary day in the Northwest? Not one single bit. But, like I do most Fridays, I’ll pick myself up and start baking… this time challah AND hamentashen! My dad was a big fan of the pastry, and though I can’t eat mine with coffee the way he loved to, I will enjoy one in his honor.

Advertisements

5 Responses to “Missing Dad”


  1. 1 Julie February 26, 2010 at 6:07 pm

    What a lovely post. See, you already have one good mini-story. Was your dad a Purim fan as well? Happy Purim!

  2. 2 malkageffen February 26, 2010 at 7:46 pm

    Thank you! Happy Purim to you too.
    I don’t have any specific memories of my dad around this particular holiday. But I will never forget the very long Pesach seders.

  3. 3 Kristy February 27, 2010 at 7:20 pm

    I love your Daddy so much too. My very first memory of him is from after your grad school graduation, giving me a cloth that he carried in his pocket so that I would keep my oversized red Elton John sunglasses clean! There were so many ways he made me know that I was his family–singing along while I played the piano for a VERY long time (he taught me that you can sing along to Mozart), blessing me as his daughter at Shabbos dinner, lighting up with a smile when I came into his hospital room. All of this was an extension of his incredible love for you and your siblings. He was so proud of everything you did and cared so much about what you thought. The love he gave so easily and generously is instilled in your body for our baby to grow in.

  4. 4 vicki arnold March 5, 2010 at 1:58 am

    Malka,
    What lovely, loving words about your dad.
    I loved him very much. I will never forget
    the beautiful, fun, spiritual Shabbos meals
    I had the honor of eating at your home with
    your Uncle Leonard.
    YOur dad’s genes and wonderful qualities will definitely be a soulful part of yours and Kristy’s baby. Plus all that you will teach the baby about his/her Grandfather.\
    I do understand the bitter-sweetness of it all, though.

    I will definitely be reading your blog.
    I love you.
    Vicki

  5. 5 Amy Watson March 8, 2010 at 7:24 pm

    Ohhhh…. I hear you. I wonder (and worry) about how much my big kids will remember my dad, and am so deeply sad that my youngest will never know him. And I have such a hard time “explaining” him. But even without perfect memories and stories, we carry their essence inside of us, and we will pass it on. Sending love!


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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s




(Disclaimer: No men were harmed in the making of this blog.)

The Family

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 41 other followers


%d bloggers like this: