“I like to sit at the edge of my bed and think. It looks like I’m davening, but I am just thinking,” my father dictated as I sat beside him with my laptop earlier this week. “Sit back, Jerry, sit back, everyone says. You’re going to slide off.”
Davening, pronounced dah’-vening, is Hebrew for praying. I remember his mother, my Bubbi, nodding in frequent prayer. My father, however, is often just nodding off. And the other night – whether davening or dozing — he leaned on his recliner’s remote, which tipped him forward until he did slip off.
Dad is slipping – slipping away. And he knows it.
So I was glad when I visited the next day that he agreed to let me type up his thoughts. In recent years, my 85-year-old father has written up lots of stories about his growing up and his take on life, but his fingers and eyes aren’t cooperating like they used to. His mind, however, remains sharp. Read more »