The smartest man in the room. My dad.
He doesn’t know how much his words today mean to me. My father, “Rav Larry”, “S’ruel Schmuel”, made my day. A week ago, we went to shul together. It was the 2nd day of Passover. My father, my children and I went to synagogue. At the seder that night, he choked up at how much it meant to him that we went to shul together. He thanked me for leading the service. I was proud of him for sharing those words with me. Today, he said something else that will sit with me forever . . .
“I read your blog, Neil”. I looked at him, assuming that he had already read it. My look must have invited a response — “I hadn’t read through the whole thing, but I did — I read through everything, every page.”
I’M PROUD OF YOU
I have never been good at receiving compliments. It has never been easy to hear them. I have for a long time chosen not to believe the good stuff others see or say that they see in me. My spouse. My mom. My kids. My friends. A good friend describes a “shtetl” mentality . . . the Cossacks always around the corner, if you will. The look on my face must’ve spoke volumes —
Two hours later, I am processing it — afraid to let it sink in:
I’m proud of you, Neil. I read your blog. I sat down to read it . . . all of it. It’s good. Poignant.
He read my blog . . . is proud of me and thought it was good.
Dad, thank you . . . I love you. Thank you very much.