Stephen's Eulogy

Before I talk about my Dad I wanted to thank one of his dear friends, Dr Mark Israel ,  for all of the support, guidance, advice and friendship that he provided to our entire family over the past 3 and half weeks.  Dr Mark Israel is the chief of the Norris Cotton Center at Dartmouth Hitchcock Hospital and one of my dad’s closest friends.  He was our rock, available to us 24 / 7 throughout our journey– during which time he lost his own mother.  For that we are all sincerely grateful to you and so profoundly sorrow for your personal loss.

And in the end the Love you Take is Equal to the Love you make.  My mom and I are the kind of people that always have a song playing in our heads.  This one has been playing for weeks  . . . . . . .

If you knew my dad, you would know that he was a lover.  He loved the City and he loved the Country.  He loved cashmere and he loved flannel.  He loved modern art and he loved antique collectibles.  He loved caviar and he loved pancakes.  He loved long walks and he loved his four-wheel drive.  He loved the New York Times and he loved the Quechee Valley News.  He loved to work and he loved his retirement.   But, most of all, he loved his family. 

My dad was an incredible father, mentor, role model and friend and he had a special connection with each of us. 

One of my earliest connections to my dad was through music.  I remember taking long day trips with the family to places like Hackelbarny Park, Flemimngton NJ or Uncle Spike’s house down the shore in Dad’s Lincoln Continental.  Leslie, Suzy and I jockeying for position in the back seat was always a source of potential stress.  So Dad would pop a tape in the 8-track player, and whether it was James Taylor or Carly Simon or Carol King or A Chorus Line, the car instantly became a calm and wonderful place filled with great music, and all of us singing along - and there was peace in the back -- even if you had the middle seat.   That was my first real taste of the power of music –which would later become an integral part of my life.

Dad’s favorite was Bobby Short.  He grew up splitting time between New York and Miami with his friends Paul and Buddy and Bobby Short provided the sound track.  A few years ago I was at a cocktail party and Bobby Short entertained with a short set of his classic songs.  After the set I approached him and introduced myself as the son of a long time fan.  He was thrilled and asked my fathers name, signed a disc and shook my hand.  I stepped away from the piano and grabbed my cell phone, called my Dad and told him  - Dad you are not going to believe who I just met.  As I was telling the story, I got a tap on my shoulder – I turned around and it was Bobby.  He took the phone out of my hand and spent the next ten minutes chatting with Dad, about music and life!  It was an incredible moment for me to experience – Dad on the phone with one of his life-time heroes.  And when I finally got the phone back – I could tell in his voice that it was an epic moment for him too.

We also connected through sports.  Dad loved basketball and football.  An avid fan of the NY Knicks back in the late 60’s and early 70’s I was fortunate to sit shoulder to shoulder with dad during the Knick’s glory years.  We attend games as a family  at Madison Square Garden.  The arena was the one of the most amazing places on earth.  We always had great seats and I was convinced Dad new the players personally – since he freely yelled instructions to them from his seat.  I’m sure they listened; he was after all on a first name basis with all of them, like Clyde, Willis and Pearl.  I remember before a Saturday afternoon game against the Washington Bullets during the great run in 1972 – we saw Bullet’s Center Wes Uncel walking into the arena.  My dad shouted over -  “hey Wes” and he stopped in his tracks and looked at my Dad with his signature curled-lip snarl.  I was terrified but Dad looked right at him and said “I want to introduce you to my son Stevie”.  I was nine and he was the meanest, tallest and biggest person I had ever seen in my entire life.  He walked over, cracked a huge smile and shook my hand.  For years I wondered if Dad really knew him, or if Wes – was just in a rare good mood. 

As for the New York Jets . . . . . Believe it or not Dad was always a Giant fan.  And I grew up a Giant fan.  I even had a New York Giant Mighty-Mac winter coat Dad bought me at Bamberger’s as proof!  Until that fateful day in 1988 when Dad came home from work and told me, “Great news!  I acquired 8 tickets on the sunny-side behind the home team bench on the 35 yard line”.  I of course assumed they were for the Giants.  But alas . . . --- and that’s when I started the long and often painful transition from Blue to Green.  And much to my friend’s Brad and Dave’s chagrin – the transition took.  But at the end of the day it wasn’t about the Giants or the Jets -- Blue or Green -- it was about continuing the tradition of spending Sunday afternoon’s with my Dad – talking about work and friends and life and watching a little football.  When Dad and Mom moved to Boston and then VT years ago, I kept the tickets and now that Sunday afternoon tradition lives on with my son Jon and I.  In retrospect, I think that was always part of his plan.

If you knew Dad then you knew how incredibly funny and quick witted he was.  He was always prepared with a quick comeback if challenged, however he was much better at listening to a joke then he was at telling one.  He left that up to his two brothers Harvey and Philly, both recently departed, but still the sunshine of his life.  They were three brothers of the closest order and all of us 8 kids between them grew up together listening, laughing and learning from their amazing example the importance of the family.  

And as funny as he was he had an equally serious side.  He lived by a set of old fashion values, instilled by his father Albert, and passed on to Leslie, Suzy and I.  At the core was the virtue of hard work.  He believed that you could accomplish anything if you truly applied yourself.  If you asked him “ what do you want for your birthday day, he would simply stay – work hard and get good grades. “  That was the only thing he ever asked for and I find myself – when asked the same question by Brooke and Jon – answering the exact same way.  He never considered himself the most talented, best educated or even the cleverest guy in the room (even though he probably was).  But he always knew that he was the most honest and hard working and credited those two virtues as the cornerstones of his success.  And he was smart, scary smart.  Sunday Times Crossword Puzzle smart, bet it all on Double Jeopardy smart! He amazingly knew the answer to every question and if he didn’t he would pull out the encyclopedia (remember those) and look it up with us until we both knew that answer.

And he was brave.  Over the past several weeks we learned how brave he really was.  From the moment he was diagnosed and map of his future rolled out in front of him he made a decision.  One that considered the magnitude of treatment coupled with the low probability of success.  Guided by the experience of his mother and brother and the selflessness of heaping his burden on the shoulders of those he loved the most.  He wanted to enjoy a swift and comfortable journey tuned to the rhythm of his family’s flow.  So he called my sisters and I separately, explained his course and asked us all for his support.   Which we all pledged immediately.

What followed were several magical days this past weekend in the Vermont home that he loved.  Where we collected together as a family and where each of us had  a quiet moment alone to say the things some never get to say.  And on that beautiful fall,  VT afternoon, with Leslie, Suzy Mom and I holding him in our arms - - he opened his eyes to look at us all and decide that he was at peace. 

Less than 12  hours later – our family was blessed with the birth of a new child, who Mom believes had encountered Dad in their transition.  If he grows up with a passion for Texas Hold E’m and sunflower seeds we will know for sure.

I will close with this last lesson – and that is the lesson of love.  My Dad loved my Mom with all of his heart and all of his sole.  They met over fifty years ago and have seldom been apart since.  They were best friends, sole mates and partners in the truest sense of the word.  And although that love has been obvious to me, Liora my sisters their husbands, our kids and to every one who ever had the pleasure of knowing them, it was never more evident than over the past few weeks.  Where I saw their love tested in ways I can’t even describe.   Mom I’m in awe of your strength, your loyalty your compassion and your leadership.  And as a family we will all miss dad together  .

And in the end  - the love you take is equal to the love you make!