In many ways, my father’s world came to an end in 1982 when our mother passed away. He quit teaching and largely withdrew. Politics became his new passion and he loved bantering at the Bagel Barrel. For over 30 years my Dad would write to me at least once a week, often railing against one political wrong or another. No matter where I was in the world;Italy, Panama, or the Middle East, my Dad’s letters were a comforting constant, which I will miss.
My grandpap waited thirty years, all the while still madly in love with my grandmother. I’m not the most religious person in the world, but I truly believe that somewhere, somehow they’re finally reunited. <3