I was chatting with my brother Eric the other day
and I told him,
that for Dad's service,
I'd like to rise from the grave
seated at a grand piano
playing the Aria from
This stunning piece of music is
an example of the exquisite
thought & beauty
that my Father was so fond of.
Sadly, a piano could not be arranged in time.
Dad grew up in The Bronx
where he used to play stickball,
eat Chinese Food,
Dad was a curious lad
and always had an enquiring mind.
He loved games and puzzles,
was a wordsmith,
and as he grew older
his games and puzzles grew increasingly
more complex and into complicated equations, patterns,
languages, and systems.
Dad, until his last days,
could be seen cocking his head to the side, and seemingly,
by tapping his fingers together, or waving a hand,
or patting his chest,
was making various calculations.
Considering String Theory no doubt.
All that Dad really wanted to do
was contemplate these beautiful truths
and their variations, and to share them with
whoever was interested.
T'was a noble pursuit.
A noble life.
and a Painter...
A Few Words My Father Lived By
"Sums are not set as a test on Erasmus."
"Drawn I sit, Serene rest is inward."
and he sometimes asked...
"Are we not drawn onward, we few drawn onward to new era?"
Or more recently, during some of his hospital stays...
this could be heard...
"Nurse, I spy gypsies. Run!"
and with Dad's
fondness for puzzles, patterns, and words
it is no surprise that he enjoyed a good
palindrome now and again.