“Just because” is not longer enough

There are many things we take as truth ‘just because’. Rituals we do because that’s what we were taught, without understanding the why or the intention behind them. Things we accept as fact, once again, ‘just because’. We live in a time where we no longer have that luxury.

On the English calendar, my dad died on September 6, 2022. I will always remember him on that day. In addition, the Hebrew calendar (which is lunar) means that his yartzheit (remembrance of the day he died) is different. It was the 11th of the month of Elul. This year the 11th of Elul began last night (Friday night) and it is all day today. Being in Israel and staying in a hotel, I wanted to think how to best remember and honor him. Typically I would light the yartzheit candle that burns for 24 hours and use that to reflect. Being in a hotel, lighting the candle wouldn’t be possible.

It was also Shabbat (the sabbath). This added an additional opportunity and compexity. What would I be doing Friday night and with whom? And then Saturday would be a completely free day to reflect – what an opportunity! The first answer came quickly. My friends Margot and Tamar invited me to their new home in Modi’in (the just moved there from Jerusalem) to enjoy Shabbat with their family. I always see Margot when I am in Jerusalem, so the chance to see their new home, see Tamar and their beautiful 3 children, was something I couldn’t pass up. An added bonus was Margot’s parents were visiting along with another friend of theirs from Jerusalem.

The last time I got to spend time with Margot and Tamar’s kids was about 2 1/2 years ago. During that visit, the two older ones put on costumes and ran around playing while the youngest had already fallen asleep. Remembering how much they loved costumes, I brainstormed with Margot about what they would want and got them special presents. I couldn’t wait to give them their presents and see the joy on their faces. It was something very much in the spirit of my dad – bringing happiness and joy to people was so important to him.

The excitement of the costumes was as I hoped. They put them on and ran around. It was so much fun to watch their faces and hear their voices.

Black Panther, Spiderman, and Red.

I smiled as I watched their joy. It was a fitting way to honor my dad. He loved children and loved making people happy. As they talked excitedly to me, especially Halleli as Red, I was filled with his presence. I felt like him with his grandchildren, paying full attention to them and validating their excitement with his listening. We laughed, we sang and we danced. Margot and Halleli did a dance together that was fun to watch. Halleli danced by herself for us. The joy was palpable. Yartzheit’s and remember those we have lost is usually sad and somber. I’m grateful that this year, on my dad’s 2nd Yartzheit, he joined us in spirit by making it fun and full of light. It was his spirit and the way he lived that infused Friday night. As Tamar drove me back to my hotel in Tel Aviv we had an in depth conversation about the impact of the war on her and Margot, on other parents, and especially on children. It was a reminder to me of not just what Margot and Tamar and other Israeli parents are doing to protect their children but all the things that my parents did to protect my siblings and me. I was filled with gratitude. It was far better and more meaningful than simply lighting a candle.

Margot and Halleli dancing

The day of my dad’s yartzheit (Saturday) I had a slow morning of rest and relaxation. I then spent the day on the beach with some new friends. It was a great day to celebrate life. That’s what my dad did, celebrated life. It was a different way to honor his memory this year. It was also very meaningful because it was about the essense of who he was. It was about his values (family) and happiness and enjoying life. It felt right. It felt good. And I felt him with me the entire time. ‘Just because’ you are supposed to light a candle for remembrance isn’t enough. I lived the day as my dad would have, truly remembering and honoring him.

One of my favorite pictures of my dad and me

I’m currently in Israel. The past few days I have been in Tel Aviv and enjoying the weather, the beach, the Mediterranean, delicious food, and time with friends and colleagues. A group of new friends went to dinner on the beach and it was amazing to learn how interconnected we were. The food was good, the company better, and the view of the beach spectacular. Later, we sat on the roof last night talking about Israel, perceptions, safety, and much more. It was a beautiful night. The weather was cool, the sky was clear, you could see and hear the Mediterranean. We talked about the beauty of Israel. How safe we felt. Our love for the country. Some of us were here for the first time. Some for multiple times. Some were Jewish and some were not. What a diverse group. Around midnight our group broke up and I walked back to my hotel.

A few hours later my phone rang. It was my oldest son. It woke me from a deep sleep and I immediately answered. His voice was full of excitement as the team he coaches had just won a big road game and for the second week in a row, the part he coaches played a key role in them winning. It was awesome that he wanted to call me to share his joy. I didn’t mind that it was 4 am for me – the fact he wanted to share this joy with me right after the game ended meant the world. This was my dad’s dream – that his children would have that type of relationship with their children. That his children would remain close as adults. I shared in his joy with immense gratitude. Does life really get any better than your children having success and joy and wanting to share it with you? I don’t think so. I know my dad didn’t think so.

On the field after the first home game – nothing comes close to celebrating your children’s happiness and success.

I fell back asleep and a few hours later, when I woke up, I saw messages from friends in the US asking what was going on and if I was safe. I wasn’t sure what they meant since it was quiet in Tel Aviv and I slept well. I opened my WhatsApp to see what was going on and saw this:

I understood why they were worried and reaching out. Thankfully the rockets and the alerts did not reach Tel Aviv. It didn’t impact my sleep nor did I have to go to the 2nd floor saferoom in the hotel (yes, there is one, and yes, I know where it is). The rockets and the sirens did reach Modi’in, where I have many friends and where I had Shabbat dinner this week. I checked on my friends and they are all safe, just a bit flustered from the 6:30 am sirens and going to their safe rooms, getting their children and sometimes parents into the safe room, in the time alotted for safety. I responded to my friends that reached out that I was safe and we had no sirens. Even though it was around midnight on the East Coast of the US, I texted my family, brother and sister, and mom to let them know we had no sirens and I am safe. Hopefully it didn’t wake them up and they can have a restful sleep and see it when they wake up.

A rocket did hit part of the train station in Modi’in. In May, I was at that train station. If the trains ran later on Friday afternoons (they close just after 2 pm for Shabbat), I’d have been there on Friday afternoon. This is the reality of terrorism, Hamas, Hezbollah, the Houthi’s and the head of the snake, Iran. This is what Tamar and I were discussing on the ride to my hotel Friday night. How does she explain this to her young children? How do she and Margot deal with the stress of parenting plus parenting in a war plus shielding their children and keeping them safe, physically, emotionaly, and spiritually. Most people understand that the IDF soldiers, the families of hostages, the rescued hostages, and those who lost loved ones on October 7th or afterwards, are struggling. The reality is the entire country is struggling. You feel the struggle when you are here. The recovery will take a long time after the war ends. Tamar and I discussed that on our ride from Modi’in to Tel Aviv. While we are seeing the greatest generation of Israelis step up in this time of crisis, there are other generations that are doing the best they can in these circumstances to survive, to live, to protect their children. The repurcussions of this war are long standing. There is a deep wound in the Israeli psyche and the Israeli people that will need to heal. Those of us in the diaspora need to understand this and help as much as we can. Coming to Israel is part of that support. As diaspora Jews, we do not understand the power of our coming to Israel during this time and the message it sends to our Israeli brothers and sisters. To know they are not alone now is critical. I have been here three (3) times since May. The thanks that I get, and the shock from many that I would come to a war zone at all, let alone 3 times, is powerful. Our Israeli brothers and sisters need us. They need our support. I urge you to come. More will be coming from me in the very near future about new ways to get here that are meaningful and affordable. It matters.

Escalator at the train station in Modi’in after a rocket hit the station

Our choices determine who we are. My dad taught me that. It’s what we do, not what we say. He taught me that too. I have lived my life in a way that when my grandchildren ask what I did at key moments, there are answers that I will proud for my children to share with them. On 9/11 I was active and helping address the trauma the UF students were dealing with. During Covid I was active in helping ensure we found ways to being back our employees quickly and provide needed services. After October 7th I made sure to be at the rally in DC, I got active with helping hostages that were released, and helping Israel. I have come here 3 times since October 7, brought students on a leadership trip, and am working with Israeli nonprofits that help children, families, small businesses, US college students, and families of hostages.

“Just because” isn’t good enough. It’s no longer acceptable. Each of us have the ability to make a difference with our actions. A friend of mine in Richmond posted this message on Facebook about a fraternity brother and me being in Israel together with a picture of us here.

Two past Richmonders who are amazing Israel advocates who don’t just talk the talk but are constantly walking the walk and using social media to share their experience! This is so much more powerful than the ho hum talk of people who lead without their personal investment and family involvement. We need THIS here!

We need this everywhere. Take action. You can. The status quo does not have be accepted. In my dad’s memory, I refuse to be silent. I refuse to sit by idly. I refuse to accept the unacceptable and will fight for the future of the Jewish people, the land of Israel, and the type of world not only that I want to live in but one that I want for my future grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I owe them no less. My grandparents did if for me, how can I not do it for mine?

Am Yisrael Chai.

Father’s Day – thank you Barry Dvorchik z”l

A friend of mine’s father was dying. He is in the music industry and shared this song with me. My father died on September 6, 2022. The haunting voice and lyrics speak powerfully to me. It describes my relationship with my father. I had three weeks with him at the end where I got to spend hours daily together. Some days we had deep conversations. Some days he wasn’t doing well and I sat with him. I was there through procedures we thought would get him better. And I was there at the end when my mom and I went to his hospital room just after he died.

Those last three weeks we were not father and son. Like the lyrics say, we were two men saying goodbye. I think he knew that’s what we were doing. Deep down, maybe I did as well. I remember getting him food delivered the first time he could eat non-hospital food. Ordering Philly cheesesteaks shipped from the famous Pat’s and then reheated for him. Taking walks around the floor of the hospital. He knew my mistakes and I knew some of his. We had long got past those things.

So every day, I strive to make him proud. Every day I hold my actions against what he would think of them. Every day, I judge myself by the standards he set for me. Every day I am a better human being because of him. So on this father’s day, I say thank you Dad. For being yourself. For teaching me how to be a good human being. For having values and ethics. For ensuring I have something to stand for. For being an example of how to be a father to my children and one day, a grandfather to my grandchildren. To be a husband, a leader, and a Jew.

Happy father’s day Dad. You may not be here physically, but you will always be here with me.

My dad and me at Evan’s bar mitzvah. Filled with joy. A treasured moment.

Lyrics

Oh, before they turn off all the lights
I won’t read you your wrongs or your rights
The time has gone
I’ll tell you goodnight, close the door
Tell you I love you once more
The time has gone
So here it is

I’m not your son, you’re not my father
We’re just two grown men saying goodbye
No need to forgive, no need to forget
I know your mistakes and you know mine
And while you’re sleeping I’ll try to make you proud
So, daddy, won’t you just close your eyes?
Don’t be afraid, it’s my turn
To chase the monsters away

Oh, well, I’ll read a story to you
Only difference is this one is true
The time has gone
I folded your clothes on the chair
I hope you sleep well, don’t be scared
The time has gone
So here it is

I’m not your son, you’re not my father
We’re just two grown men saying goodbye
No need to forgive, no need to forget
I know your mistakes and you know mine
And while you’re sleeping I’ll try to make you proud
So, daddy, won’t you just close your eyes?
Don’t be afraid, it’s my turn
To chase the monsters away

Sleep a lifetime
Yes, and breathe a last word
You can feel my hand on your own
I will be the last one
So I’ll leave a light on
Let there be no darkness, in your heart

But I’m not your son, you’re not my father
We’re just two grown men saying goodbye
No need to forgive, no need to forget
I know your mistakes and you know mine
And while you’re sleeping I’ll try to make you proud
So, daddy, won’t you just close your eyes?
Don’t be afraid, it’s my turn
To chase the monsters away

The last picture I took of my dad, just before we left the night he died. The love and peace in his face brings tears to my eyes and always will. Such a sweet and generous man.

My dad (z’l) would be 80 today and celebrate his 20th birthday. Huh???

Today is my dad’s (z’l) 80th birthday.  Yes, that means he was a February 29th, leap year baby. 

My favorite story about his birthday came from his mother, my Grandma Esther.  When she took him to enroll in public school, they asked when she chose to celebrate his birthday.   She asked why it would matter, as his birthday is his birthday.  They told her that if they celebrated his birthday on February 28th, then he could enroll this year.  But since that was the cutoff date, if they celebrated it March 1, he had to wait another year to enroll.  You guessed it, she told them they celebrated on February 28th!! 

My dad believed this 100%

My dad’s real birthdays were always a special celebration in part because they only came once every four years.  I remember counting down until I had more birthdays than him (it was when I had my 8th birthday and he had to wait almost 2 full months for his actual 8th birthday!   My brother and sister did it as well as did my kids.  My son Matthew turned 20 two weeks after my dad died, having celebrated 19 real birthdays.  We talked a lot about how he just missed celebrating his 20th before my dad did.  Thinking about it now still brings tears to my eyes as it did when we lovingly talked about it.

As we prepare to celebrate his 80th birthday, and we will celebrate it, I find myself missing him a great deal, especially at this time in my life, and thinking of the lessons he taught me and how important they are and how core they are to who I am as a person.  I want to share a few with you.

  1. Family is Everything. 

My dad (and my mom) not only preached this but lived it on a daily basis.  Nothing came before family.  For family simchas (celebrations), my parents were always there.  Growing up, the entire family was there.  With my cousin’s daughter’s Bat Mitzvah coming up, there is no question we’ll be there, just as we were for my other cousin’s son’s Bar Mitzvah last year.  Family is everything and you don’t sacrifice family or family time for anything.  You do whatever you can and whatever is needed for family. 

Family is also not defined by blood.  I have ‘Aunts and Uncles’ who are not related by blood.  I have ‘brothers and sisters’ who are not related by blood.  I have cousins who are more like siblings.   My in-laws are second parents and my wife’s family is truly my family.  I joke with people about my family because it’s gotten so big because so many people are part of it that aren’t blood related.

When it comes to family, we were taught that you do whatever is needed to help.  Period.  No, ‘if’s, ands or buts’ as my mom would often say.  I’m grateful to my dad and my mom for instilling this in us as children.  It’s not only how I live my life, but also what I teach my children, and Family First has been a core philosophy during the 25 years I ran nonprofit organizations.

All together for my parents 50th wedding anniversary
  • Be ethical – behave as if your mother will see everything you do on the front page of the New York Times.  

My dad preached this all the time.  When making decisions and making choices, always imagine that your actions or inactions will be on the front page of the NY Times and your mother, and her friends will see it.  Is that what I really want my mom to see and read?  Is that what I want her friends to be asking her about? 

My dad always wanted us to think through our decisions. I can’t count how many times we sat and talked about different situations and went through all the possible outcomes. We’d discuss how we would handle it if this specific thing happened. What if it was something different? How would we handle that? What type of person do you want to be? How do you want people to view you? What values matter to you and how do you consistently act on them.

My long time friends have some great stories about me when I didn’t act that way. When I wouldn’t want my behavior and actions to have been on the front page of the NY Times. Most of those happened in high school and college, which isn’t surprising. That’s when we are testing boundaries, learning limits, and still believe that we are infallible. I use those stories to show my mistakes to my kids. To teach them from the things I didn’t do well how they can do better. They aren’t things I am proud of but they are the things that 13-22 year olds do. We often laugh at them now because they are certainly ridiculous and absurd. And they are the type of things I would never do now.

With my friend (who is a brother) Aric and his future wife Carol Ann. You can tell from this picture we were up to no good. He has a wealth of stories that thankfully he doesn’t tell.

My dad began instilling this in us as young children because I think he knew that it would take time for it to really set into our soul. That we wouldn’t understand as kids but by consistenly reinforcing it and teaching us, we would learn it before we made any catestrophic mistakes. His foresight is greatly appreciated and something I have copied with my children.

Thanks Dad, for making me question my actions and strive to always be ethical in my actions. I’m a better person, husband, father, friend, and colleague because of the time and effort you invested to teach me the importance of living an ethical life.

  • Be Kind

In recent times, there has been a focus on the need to be kind.  In many ways this is due to the fact that so many people are not kind.  They behave in ways that are atrocious, unethical, and shameful.  The way they treat others is completely unacceptable.  My dad taught us to be kind.  He taught us that how you treat people says something about you and your character.  It doesn’t mean you have to like or respect people, but it is important to treat them with dignity.  It’s important to be kind. 

This doesn’t mean I need to be a doormat.  It means that until or unless somebody shows you that they don’t deserve kindness and respect, you give it to them.  And even when they show you that, it’s important to behave in an ethical manner.  My dad taught me that it is important to remember that at the end of the day, I have to live with myself and my decisions.  This means standing up for what is right, what I believe in, and what are my core values.  Although at times it takes work and a lot of effort, I can do this in a kind manner. 

After my dad died, one of the things that was said about him the most was that he was a kind man. He had a heart of gold and never wanted to hurt anybody, only to help people. It’s one of the characteristics and personality traits of his that I strive to emulate.

  • Get Involved – make a difference.

My grandparents taught this to my parents who taught it to me and my siblings.  Don’t stand on the sidelines.  It is important to get involved and work to improve the world in whatever way you can.  That was my dad as my cub scout troop leader when nobody else would do it.  It was me coaching my kids’ sports teams.  It is getting involved with Jewish life in one way or another.  Working to connect with legislators who make the laws that we live with.  Volunteering with organizations that do work that matters to you.

My dad taught me that life is a contact sport.  Sitting on the sidelines isn’t what life is about.  I got involved with a youth group in high school.  Fraternity in college.  Volunteering throughout my life.  Working in the nonprofit world for the past 25+ years.  Building relationships with people and always being willing to help them.

I was on the phone yesterday with a friend of a friend who connected us about some work-related topics.  As we were talking, she asked if I could help with something totally unrelated to the conversation.  My answer was 100% yes.  Because that’s what I was taught to do.  I was talking to another friend yesterday who thanked me for doing something to help them.  I told them they didn’t need to say thank you, that’s what friends do for each other.  Because that’s what I was taught.

My grandparents were volunteering in the synagogue, at the Jewish home for the elderly, raising money for JNF, volunteering and knitting slippers and sweaters for kids in the hospital.  It was always something.  They were involved in their community and their lives were richer as a result.  I’ll never forget the stories of Holocaust Survivors sleeping on the floor at my great-grandmother’s house because they had no place to go and she just took them in until they could get settled.  My parents ‘adopted’ a family from the former Soviet Union when they finally got out and came to the US.  My mom is in touch with them today and they are another part of our family, unrelated by blood. 

My kids often laugh at me when I talk about ‘my friend (insert name)’ because often times they have no idea which one I am talking about because they hear so many names.  I have to clarify which person it is for them because they have grown up understanding that getting involved and helping others is what we do.  It is one way that we can make the world a better place.

Thanks Dad.  Thanks Mom.  By teaching me this value, you’ve made me a better person and allowed me to impact the world in my own way.

My dad loved Nefesh Mountain and brought them to Tampa as a fundraiser to send kids to Jewish summer camp. It was his last major volunteer project.
  • Set goals.  Setting them is more important than achieving them.

This sounds wrong.  Isn’t it about what you achieve?  I struggled with this when my dad would talk to me about this when I was a kid.  Especially in high school when achievement was everything and effort didn’t seem to matter that much.  Once again, he was right, and it just took me a little longer to understand it.

If you don’t set goals, you don’t know where you want to go.  And if you don’t know where you want to go, you can end up anywhere.  I didn’t understand that as kid.  I wanted to go to college, have a career, make money, have a family, buy a house, retire, and enjoy my life.  Those were goals and I knew where I wanted to go.  But I didn’t know how to get there.  It is like the famous Theodore Herzl quote, ‘If you will it, it is no dream.’  Just wanting it isn’t enough.  You have to will it.  You have to work for it.  And if you don’t know the steps to take to get there, you likely won’t get there. 

I set goals all the time.  Goals for the day, the week, the month, the year.  When I am working on a project, I have goals and milestones set to achieve so I can measure my progress.  Financial goals for retirement.  I have an objective for when my house is paid off, places I want to visit, things I want to do.  Without setting the goals, I’d have no way to get to what I want to accomplish.

So yes, achieving the goals is important, but if you don’t set them first, you can’t achieve them.  Once again, Dad you were right, it just took me a while to understand it.

  • People remember who you are, not what you did.

Simon Sinek’s amazing TED Talk, Start with Why, focuses on the fact that people don’t buy what you do, they buy why you do it.  My dad knew this concept years before Simon’s TED talk, as he taught us this lesson as children.  He was never caught up in what he did, but rather who he was a person.  The number of stories we heard about my dad and the impact he had on people was incredible.  People remembered who he was.  They remembered the time he spent with them.  The way he listened to them.  The way he would always be there for them when they needed him, no matter what.  It was who he was.  The fact that he had a very successful career and made an impact in the pharmaceutical industry through research and getting new drugs through the FDA was nice, but it wasn’t what he thought was important. 

Throughout my career, I have been most proud of the relationships I have built and the people who have been in my life at different stages that still are a part of my life today.  People who used to work for me.  Students from UF Hillel.  Parents of students.  Alumni.  I have these interactions almost every week.  This week alone it happened about 10 times.  That’s not a typo – literally 10 or more just this week.  I treasure those conversations and connections. I even told one of them today that I was writing about this in the blog as we connected about different things, talked about family, and it seemed like we had just been together yesterday.

I enjoy having the opportunity to remain in people’s lives for decades.  To build and maintain friendships.  To be a mentor, advisor, friend, colleague and watch their lives unfold.  To be a part of their group and for them to be a part of mine. 

After my dad died, the stories people told about him were remarkable.  I’d heard the same theme throughout my life however after he died, the number of people who had those stories was truly remarkable.  He was somebody who was there for everybody.  He was known to sit down next to you, pat your thigh and ask, “So what’s going on good?”  And then he listened.   He heard them.  He spent time understanding what they were really talking about and what they were really asking.  And then he provided some suggestions and guidance that they could take or not.  Most of the time they took it and expressed their gratitude.

One of my friends met my dad only once.  He didn’t have a relationship with his own father and was astounded by the relationship I had with my father.  He would always remind me of the interaction with my dad and how much it impacted him.  He would imitate my dad when he told him, “Call me Barry.”   That’s who he was to everybody.  He was the person anybody and everybody could reach out to talk with, to share challenges with who would listen and give you 100% of his attention.  He was a friend and confidante to so many people.  I don’t think any of us realized just how wide and broad his impact in this role was until after he died.

People don’t buy what you do, they buy why you do it.  People remember who you are, not what you did.  Simon Sinek and Barry Dvorchik (z’l).

My dad and his 2 (biological) sons. He had many more who considered him to either be dad or Uncle Barry

February 29th will always be a special day for me.  In many ways I’m glad that it only comes every 4 years, although having celebrated his birthday on February 28th most years means there still is a day that I will miss him even more.  I’m very lucky to have had him as a dad and for the wisdom he imparted that I continue to hear in my head and continue to follow. 

So today, February 29, 2024, do something special for Barry.  Spend some extra time with your family.  Call your kids or your parents or your grandparents just to say you love them.  Talk with your siblings for no reason other than you love them, and if you have a strained relationship with family, make a commitment to work towards repairing it.  He’s up there watching and nothing would make him happier than seeing people investing in their family in his name. And do what he loved to do more than anything…. start dinner by eating dessert first!

I love and miss you dad. Happy heavenly birthday.

One of my favorite pictures with my dad. This was at Evan’s Bar Mitzvah and we were filled with joy.

The Sunday music inspiration

About 6 months ago I began subscribing to The Free Press.  The articles have been great and each Sunday there is a focus by Douglas Murray called, “Things Worth Remembering” that in year one focused on poetry.  I have to admit that for most of my life, poetry hasn’t been something that I really got.  Yet getting this weekly article about a specific poem that really dug into the words began to inspire me.  I went from glancing at it, to skimming it, to reading it and really enjoying it.  The Free Press announced that year two of the column will now focus on great oratory of the ages. 

I’ve also written about how behind I am with popular music.  So, as I catch up on music, I thought I’d imitate the Free Press and use Sunday as a day to be inspired by music.  Today’s song is from 2017, so I’m only 6-7 years behind the curve on this one.  It’s by Scotty McCreary and called ‘Five More Minutes”.  The words remind me of the past and inspire me for the future.

Eight years old, couple cane pole sittin’ down by the creek.  Lines in the water, watchin’ those bobbers, seein’ that red sun sink. Mama’s on the porch yellin’, “Supper’s hot! Y’all come and get it!”  We yelled, “Five more minutes.”

As a child, we played outside every day.  Winter, Spring, Summer, or Fall, it didn’t matter how hot or cold it was, we were outside playing.  The rules were when the streetlights came on, we had to head home.  And every day, when the lights came on, we kept playing until at least one of our mothers who open the front door and yell at us to come inside for dinner.  And just like in the song, we would groan and beg for just five more minutes.  We never really wanted just five more minutes but that was what we asked for.  As an adult, I look back on those days with such gratitude.  We had no worries.  We played all sorts of games outside with everybody in the neighborhood.  The only worry we had was watching for the streetlights to turn on.  There are many days that I wish for just five more minutes of that childhood without the pressures of life.  As my children grew up, I wanted to give them to same type of experience.  While the world had changed and technology meant they weren’t outside all afternoon like we were, I still wanted to give them the opportunity to ask for just five more minutes.  I smile when it’s dinner time and my now young adult sons will ask for just a few more minutes to finish their game before they come to eat.

The joy of childhood is precious, and we lose it far too often.  While as adults we have responsibilities beyond coming home for dinner when the streetlights turn on, we can find our own ways to do the things that bring us similar joy to we experienced in childhood.  In the times we live in, bringing some childhood joy to our lives is critical to maintain our sanity.

At sixteen, it was 12:03, standin’ at her front door.  And Katie’s dad said “Midnight,” but we needed just a little more.  Yellow light flippin’ on and off interruptin’ that good night kissin’.  We wanted five more minutes.

As a teen, it was no longer just come in for dinner when the streetlights came on.  After dinner it was going out with friends.  First it was just in the neighborhood and as we got older and could drive, it was midnight and later.   It was exciting and thrilling.  The night brought lots of opportunities, especially with dating.  I remember many times sitting in the car or at the front door with the ‘goodnight kiss’, knowing that her dad was waiting inside to make sure she got home by curfew.  And like the song, we always wanted just five more minutes.   High school was all about the five more minutes of whatever we were doing, other than school.  Dating, parties, youth group conventions, vacations – we always wanted just a little bit more. 

When I look back, I find myself thinking about how to get that extra time with the things I love.  Going to sporting events with my kids, the theater with my wife, vacations with my wife and with the family, concerts, spending holidays together, and so much more.  I remember growing up hearing about how time was the most precious commodity we have and thinking how young I was and how much future was ahead.  In my mid 50s, with 60 around the corner, I look back and appreciate the way I spent some of my time and think of the missed time that I can never get back.  I treasure the time I got to spend with my grandparents and how integral all four of them were to me into my mid-20s and early 30s.  I think of my great-grandma Rose and the time I spent with her.  I think of my parents, my siblings (including my wife’s sisters and her family), my cousins, my in-laws, and my close friends. 

As I look at the next two decades of my life, I want to focus on that extra five more minutes with the people I love and the people who matter to me.  Time truly is the most precious possession we have, and I am grateful to be at a place in my life and with my career where I don’t have to sacrifice the time because of work, finances, or ego.  I want to remember what it felt like being a teenager when I treasured every minute on a date, while being out with friends, and with everything that I did.  Somehow when building a career and raising a family, these things get lost, and it is too easy to never recover them. 

Time rolls by, the clock don’t stop. I wish I had a few more drops of the good stuff, the good times.  Ah, but they just keep on flyin’. Right on by like it ain’t nothin’.  I wish I had me a-, a pause button.  Moments like those, Lord knows I’d hit it.  And give myself five more minutes. 

As a kid, time seemed to drag on.  I remember being told that as I got older, the days would go slow and the years would go fast.  I didn’t believe it nor did I truly understand it.  I was young.  Invincible.  The future was mine and so much ahead of me.  I remember turning 30 and thinking how old I was, because I grew up in shadows of the ‘don’t trust anybody over 30’ generation.  I wanted a fast forward button, not a pause button.  Fast forward through high school so I could be independent and move away to college.  College was fun but I wanted to fast forward to building a career.  Being single was fun but I wanted to fast forward to getting married and having children.  Time was plentiful so why would I want to slow life down? 

My fraternity brothers at one of our formals. Truly the best of times that went way too fast.

My friend Aric, who is like a brother to me, and his now wife Carol Ann. We joke that if it was ‘my turn’ when we met girls that she would have been my wife instead of his. It feels like yesterday but it was more than 30 years ago.

High school. Hard to believe this was almost 40 years ago. It feels like yesterday. We lost my friend Ellen (z’l) in the Penn Sweatshirt and sunglasses last year. Time goes too fast. I’d like 5 more minutes with my friend.

How naïve we are as young people.  We think we are indestructible.  We think we will live forever.  We think nothing bad will happen.  I would love to go back and use the pause button as my grandparents’ beach cottage every summer with extended family.  I want to use the pause button on our family Thanksgiving touch football games and our family Passover whiffle ball games, especially when my grandparents would play in one way or another.  I’d use the pause button when we celebrated both sets of grandparents 50th wedding anniversaries on the same cruise and when we celebrated my parents 50th wedding anniversary on another cruise.  I’d hit the pause button on all the time I spent with my cousin Eric growing up together.  I’d pause my wedding and honeymoon.  I’d use it when my kids, Evan and Matthew, were little to get more of them as small children.  When I look at the pictures that we have of them when they were both under 6, I wonder where the time went and how it went so quickly. 

Family picture on my parents 50th anniversary cruise

My parents and their grandchildren as we celebrated their 50th anniversary.

The family in Curacao at the oldest synagogue in the western hemisphere. We had so much fun together celebrating my parents.

My cousin Eric and me at ‘the cottage’ cooking breakfast. We had amazing times together and at the cottage before his early passing. We had life plans that never happened.

While we don’t have a real life pause button, we do have the ability to treasure every moment and not miss them.  I think of driving Evan to Tennessee to start graduate school and his college football coaching career and how I treasured every minute of the drive, moving him in, and shopping for the things he needed.  I think of the times I went on college recruiting trips with Evan and when I took Matthew to visit and explore potential colleges.  Going to theater with my wife and Matthew, sporting events with Evan and Matthew, and our special fantasy baseball ‘Get Together’ weekends with our ICBL brothers each year and smile as the memories are vivid and I enjoyed every minute.  Recently I attended my friend Jeremy’s wedding and had the honor of officiating their marriage.  Every minute of the time we all spent together was special and treasured.  We have the ability to step back, slow down, and appreciate the gifts we have in our life.  Too often, we look back and realize ‘we missed it’.  I made the decision when my dad died that I wasn’t going to miss anything any longer.  It was the experience that taught me the importance of time and how to treasure it.  To live life as if there was a pause button so I appreciate all the moments.

Jeremy and me before the wedding. A memory I will never forget.

Evan, Matthew and me on the field before the game at Ben Hill Griffin Stadium during a recruiting vist to UF.

Alison, Matthew, Carla, and me at the Orlando Ballet’s performance of the Nutcracker. These are highlights we take advantage of while we can.

At eighteen, turned my helmet in and walked to the fifty-yard line.  Just the coach and me after we lost eighteen to nine.  And I cried, “Man, next time to get in here, I’ll have to buy a ticket.  Can’t you give me five more minutes?”

My oldest son Evan played high school football and started all four years.  We went to football camps together his last two years of high school.  As a family, we didn’t miss games and the opportunity to watch him play.  I’ll never forget his last high school football game as we walked the field arm in arm, as he was honored on senior night.  I’ll never forget the look on his face after the game, a big win, and the connection he had with his coach.  I remember the feeling I had at that moment, knowing I would never watch him play high school football again and that not only was his life changing, but mine was as well.  We stayed on the field after the game for a long time to soak up every minute we could.  And I remember thinking as we walked off the field how I wish I could have had just a little more time, just five more minutes, of that experience as it ended forever.  When he told me that he had decided not to continue playing college football and instead wanted to start his coaching career early, while he was in college, I was devastated.  He was fine with his decision and didn’t regret ending one stage and moving onto the next step in his career.  I wasn’t ready.  I was looking forward to watching him play, to celebrating his achievements, and struggled with the way it was changing my life.  I was still able to watch him coach at UCF and then in high school and with the semi-pro Orlando law enforcement/first responders’ team.  It was still an awesome experience, but a very different one.  As he started his professional career coaching college football, it was an incredible experience watching him coach. 

Evan and Coach Carter sharing emotion after his final high school game.

Evan and Coach Carter. A great mentor

Evan tackling as a freshman. His first tackle ever was NBA star Dejounte Murray.

Family picture on the field after his freshman season

Evan played in the band at halftime 3 of his 4 years of varsity football. This was a classic – we need more cowbell! Matthew is in the back as they played in the band together.

Evan in uniform at UCF

Evan in the locker room before the game

Evan with his conference championship ring. A forever treasure.

Evan snapping in practice. He was a great long snapper.

Evan with the UCF conference championship trophy. What a memory
Evan as the head coach of the Orlando Guardians of the National Public Safety Football League. They played teams like FDNY and the Chicago Fire Department. 

Watching Matthew, my younger son, graduate high school was another seminal moment.  I would now only have kids in college.  Attending his graduation, Magna Cum Laude, from Seminole State, was an incredible experience. When he graduates UCF in another year, I will no longer have any kids in college.  It’s another major life transition and when he moves out of the house as well, I know I will want 5 more minutes of kids living in my house.  It’s another reminder of how precious time is and how important it is not to waste the time we have.

Matthew graduation night – he graduated Magna Cum Laude, truly impressive. 

I was invited to the White House Hanukkah party in 2022. Matthew came with me and we had a great time. Another special moment we will both remember forever.

At eighty-six, my grandpa said, “There’s angels in the room.”  All the family gathered ‘round, knew the time was comin’ soon.  With so much left to say I prayed, “Lord, I ain’t finished.  Just give us five more minutes.”

My dad died on September 6, 2022.  I had gotten him moved to Advent Health about three weeks prior and my mom moved in with us while he was in the hospital.  I visited him every day while he was in the hospital and got to spend quality time with my mom every morning and evening.  Those three weeks are precious to me, both for the time I spent with my dad and the time I spent with my mom.  When I think of them, I tear up, because they were some of the most meaningful days of my life.  I look back at some of the pictures from those three weeks and smile with a mixture of happiness and sadness.  My dad eating real food I had delivered when he got out of ICU into a private room – I can still hear him talking about how good it was because the hospital food was so bad.  The picture of him and my mom walking hand in hand in the hospital hallway.  They were married for 56 years and together for 65+.  The last picture I took of my dad, lying in his bed, with a sweet smile on his face.  I remember kissing him goodnight, telling him I loved him and would see him in the morning.  My mom got the call from the hospital around 1:30 am that morning that he had died.  We went to the hospital together and sat with him, just the three of us, while we waited until it was not too early to call my brother and my sister as well as my Aunt Sheila, his sister.  Writing about it brings tears to my eyes once again.

When I look at this picture, I can hear my dad’s voice talking about how good the food was and how much he enjoyed it. I’m forever grateful for the opportunity I had the last 3 weeks of his life.

My mom and dad walking the hospital hallway. So many special moments during those 3 weeks that I will treasure forever.

The last picture I took of my dad. He looked so sweet and peaceful. I gave him a kiss, told him I loved him and that I’d see him the next morning. He died a few hours later. Every time I look at this picture it brings tears to my eyes. How I wish I could have 5 more minutes.

As we sat in the room with him after he had died, I remember wishing I just had one more chance to talk with him, to tell him again how much I loved him, to be able to ask his advice and hear his wisdom and knowing that would never be possible.  I wanted those five more minutes.  I have no regrets with my dad, I just wanted more.  I wanted those five more minutes.  And today, there are plenty of times when I want to pick up the phone and call him, talk for five minutes, and pick his brain and get his advice.  Once again, it’s an example of the precious nature of time. 

I choose to invest my time with my family.  With my sons, my wife, my mom, siblings and siblings-in-law.  I want to do my part to ensure that when the time comes, my children have no regrets.  They don’t wish they had just done something more with me.  They don’t regret missing out spending time together. 

Celebrating my mom’s birthday with the family. I don’t miss these opportunities.

The family celebrating Alison’s 50th birthday

Dancing with my mom at a family Bar Mitzvah. 

I think of the lost time with my family members who died too young.  My Uncle Joe. My cousins Eric and Todd.  I think of the time missed with my friends who have died in the past few years and how they won’t be around any longer.  I always think of my dad, who died in September 2022, and who I miss daily.  We have no guarantees in life, and we get to choose our priorities.  I’ve reached a place in my life where my priorities have shifted.  It’s far more rewarding to do what I can to minimize the impact of wanting those five more minutes at the end. 

Yeah, sometimes this ol’ life will leave you wishin’.  That you had five more minutes.  Five more minutes. 

Priorities are the key.  We live in a culture that values money, status, and titles.  We often sacrifice things like time with family and friends in our effort to make money, obtain a better title, or because our identity is tied to our job.  In the end, like the song says, those priorities “will leave you wishin’ that you had five more minutes.”  Our society puts pressure on us to meet their priorities.  Over the past 18 months, since my dad got sick and then died, I have been reviewing my priorities.  Asking myself what is really important.  What do I really value?  It’s been a complete reset in many areas.

October 7th only highlighted this even more.  I have seen the 47-minute Hamas video and it’s horrifying.  I have four friends who had family members taken hostage.  Of the 6 hostages, 4 have been released.  There are still 2 held by Hamas, now for 126 days.  I have friends who lost family members at the music festival.  Friends who lost family serving in the IDF.  Friends who are serving or have children currently serving in the IDF, worried every day about their safety.  I wear my dogtags every day.  My Magen David (star of David) every day.  I put a new piece of masking tape on my shirt, over my heart, every day, updating the number of days the hostages have been kept. 

Besides being a great song, Five More Minutes teaches an important lesson.  It reminds us that in the end, all we really want is more time.  No matter how much money we may have, no matter how much power and influence we may have, no matter what our titles are or what we have accomplished in our careers, the one thing we all want is just five more minutes. At the end of the day, we have the choice to set our priorities.  I choose to do what I can to want, but not need, those five more minutes. 

Anger, Rage, Love, Hope

On Sunday Jan 14, 2024, it will officially be 100 days since the violent attacks by Hamas resulting in the murder, mutilation, rape, burning, and kidnapping of Israelis.  There remain 132 people held hostage by Hamas in Gaza including infants, toddlers, children, women, and the elderly.  They have not been provided their medication in 100 days.  They have been held in underground tunnels for 100 days.  Birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays have come and gone while they are being held captive.  For the past hundred days the attacks on October 7th, the murders, mutilation, rape, burning, and kidnapping of my Jewish and non-Jewish brothers and sisters just because they were in Israel has weighed heavy on me. 

I ordered a new Magen David (Star of David) from Israel that I wear.  I got two dogtags from Israel, one saying “Bring them Home Now” in English and Hebrew, the other quoting released hostage Mia Schem, taken from the Nova music festival, and her tattoo, boldly stating, “We will dance again.” I want to fly an Israeli flag at my house, however due to the rise in antisemitism and the fears of my family, I don’t. 

This rise in antisemitism has fueled my anger and rage.  Seeing what’s happening on campus and watching and listening to then President of The University of Pennsylvania, Liz Magill, then President of Harvard College, Claudine Gay, and President of MIT, Sally Kornbluth refuse to state that calls for the genocide of Jews would violate their University’s code of contact was infuriating and unbelievable. 

Watching some members of the US House of Representatives who previously stood strongly against sexual violence keep silent because the victims were Jews burns in my gut.  People shamelessly throwing around words like ‘ethnic cleansing’ and ‘genocide’ without knowing the definition or the proper application has fire in my eyes.  When South Africa has the nerve to charge Israel with genocide at the International Criminal Court my body cramped and ached with exhaustion.  Israel, and the Jewish people, are being singled out compared to every other group or nation and excluded from protection.

When Germany, of all nations, comes out with a strong statement in support of Israel, clearly stating they are not involved in genocide, it provides relief.  When Canada stands up and says that while they believe in the process of the International Criminal Court, it “does not mean we support the premise of the case brought forward by South Africa.” it is both surprising because of recent events in Canada and relief that they are doing what’s right.  When the U.K. calls these claims “unjustified’ it generates major news.  The United States has called these claims ‘unfounded’.  It took watching and listening to Dr. Tal Becker’s incredible opening statement, 30 minutes of powerful and clear statements, to truly provide me with some relief.

This is not the way I lived my life prior to October 7, 2023.  It’s not how I want to live my life today.  Yet the realities of what occurred on October 7th and what has happened since, have me struggling on a daily basis.  I was talking with a friend on Friday over coffee who saw the 47-minute Hamas video with me about the experience.  She commented on how she hasn’t been able to process it with anybody because they can’t imagine the horrors she witnessed.  And how some of the images will never leave her memory.  I feel the same way and some of the images that have deeply disturbed her are the same that deeply disturb me. 

So how do I move forward?  How do I find inspiration and hope in a world that continues to suck hope and joy out with such incredible hate.  How do I get past these feelings when I already know where I will go and who will hide me and my family if that time should ever come?  How do I come to accept that not only have I had that thought but spoken to that person who agreed to do it?  That in 2024, in the United States of America, I feel so unsafe that I need to have a secure place to hide.  That the hatred of Jews is so strong and accepted that people feel safe screaming it from the top of lungs in public settings.

I have found inspiration in three places.   The first is the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.  A true leader in times when the African American community was facing the same type of public hatred, he remained a beacon of light.  Nearly 56 years after his assassination, his words, spirit, and leadership remain powerful.  How fitting is that as I write this, it is the weekend celebrating his birth.  Dr. King has many famous quotes that are filled with inspiration.  So many inspired me.  I picked 5 that speak to me now.

Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.

We must walk on in the days ahead with an audacious faith in the future.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.

I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.

Hatred paralyzes life; love releases it. Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it. Hatred darkens life; love illuminates it.

You will notice that 3 of the 5 relate to love instead of hatred.  It’s easy to be filled with hate after October 7th and the 100 days the hostages have been kept.  It’s easy to hate when the Red Cross refuses to see the hostages or get them medicine.  It’s easy to hate after watching the 47-minute Hamas video.  Yet hatred, as Dr. King states, is a burden, paralyzes, confuses, and darkens life.  As I struggle with my anger and rage, Dr. King inspires me to be better and to do better.  He reminds me that those who are sincerely ignorant and consciously stupid are dangerous and I have an obligation to continue to learn and to educate others.  And most importantly, he reminds me that I must have faith in the future and focus on love, not hate.

The second may be seen by some as controversial.  Joe Paterno was more than a football coach.  The investment he put into his players as people is legendary.  I know so many people who weren’t players who had interactions with him and his focus was always about being better people.  What type of person do you want to be?  What type of parent?  Spouse?  I have friends who played on his teams and they all talk about how he invested in them as people.  Due to the Sandusky scandal, the statue of him was removed.  Penn State fans want it back and recently I read something about it once again.  The thought came to me that were he still alive, the statue wouldn’t be something he cared about.  But the type of people he coached and how they live their lives today is something he’d care about.  One of my middle and high school friends who was on the team from 1985-1990 is a great example.  Darryl is also in coaching and has been a mentor to my son Evan.  Along with being a friend to me, he is always available to help Evan.  I have seen the way he interacts with the players he coaches and like Joe Paterno, he cares about them as people first.  As I struggle with the feelings since October 7th, I think of the lessons from Coach Paterno and how that relates.  “Success with honor” was one of key goals for Coach Paterno.  It’s also how the IDF behaves.  They have their mission however they go above and beyond to what they can to ensure civilians aren’t harmed.  Unfortunately, Hamas does everything they can to ensure that civilians are harmed.  Coach Paterno had to compete against those who cheated.  Israel has to fight against Hamas who uses hospitals, schools, mosques, and homes as military bases.  Yet neither Coach Paterno nor the IDF compromise their values even when it makes things more difficult. 

The third place I find my inspiration is from my father.  I had a very close relationship with my father and when he died in September 2022, it had a huge impact on me.  My dad always focused on what you do, not what you say.  He focused on family and how important it is.  He cared about people and was always there as a resource to anybody and everybody.  As I struggle with these feelings, I often hear my dad in my head, giving me advice and guidance.  I have wanted to go to Israel since October 7th but my family is too concerned about safety and doesn’t want me to go.  I hear my dad telling me that as much as I want to go, as much as I need to go for myself, nothing is more important than family.  I know he would tell me to do what I can from here and be grateful that I can do things from here, even if it isn’t what I would prefer to do.  As I struggle with the anger and rage, he would tell me to focus on the beauty in my life, my family, my friends, and appreciate what I have rather than be consumed with anger and hate.  Like Dr. King, my dad focused on love and light.  I miss him terribly but even now, he is helping me deal with these feelings.

My brother, my dad, and me. He was my mentor and idol and he continues to teach me every day.

Today was the Ride for Israel in town.  Some wonderful community members put it together and a large crowd showed up for motorcycle and cars driving with Israeli flags, signs, and more throughout Orlando.  For two hours we drove all around town as people honked in support.  We had a great crowd and it felt good to be together as a community in support of Israel and the Kibbutzim that were attacked on October 7th.  It was a day of love, hope, community, friendship and fun.  As I struggle with the feelings post October 7th, it’s things like this along with the inspiration from Dr. King, Joe Paterno, and my dad that get me through it. 

Leaders of the Ride for Israel. What an incredible day.

I do believe and have hope for the future.  And perhaps that hope is what will get me through these challenging days.

Inspiring art and words from Joanne Fink

Fast Times, Memories, and Lessons (plus Happy Sylvester)

It’s the last day of 2023 – Happy New Year! (Happy Sylvester for those who know). My 13 year old dog Bella woke me up early to eat her breakfast and go outside.  After taking care of her needs and brewing a pot of coffee, I sat down and turned on the television.  One of my favorite movies, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, was on, so I had to watch it.  It immediately brought back memories.

Fast Times chronicles high school in the early 80’s.  It’s the story of my adolescence.  At different times I can relate with Brad, Spicoli, Rat, and Damone. We knew who was Linda, who was Stacy, and who was Lisa. Certainly we all had a teacher like Mr. Hand. The hair, clothes, language, teachers, cars, and situations bring me right back to being in high school.  The friends and the fun we had, all while looking forward to our amazing futures in college, with careers, and the unlimited opportunities ahead of us.  It was the 1980s, so capitalism was king.  Everybody believed they would become incredibly successful and wealthy.  We had no limits ahead of us. 

Hanging out in somebody’s basement. Life was good and the future was bright for all of us.

It’s hard to believe that was about 40 years ago.  As I think back over the past approximately 40 years, I wonder where the time has gone.  I still feel like that 15–17-year-old high school kid most of the time, even though my own children are much older than that.  I still feel like I have that amazing future in front of me even though I also recognize that nearly 2/3 of my life is now behind me. 

Lately I have been thinking a lot about those times.  I attended two high schools.  My freshman and sophomore year were at Susquehanna in Harrisburg, PA.  Then we moved to the Philadelphia area where I finished high school at Upper Dublin.  My Susquehanna friends were friends from elementary, middle, and high school where we had a long history of growing up together.  My friends from Upper Dublin were forged from the power of the last two years of high school and coming of age together.  I moved to Florida in 1992 and lost contact with many of them until social media gave us the opportunity to reconnect many years later.

My high school classmates have had lives that cross the entire spectrum.  Unfortunately, some died tragic deaths at a young age.  I think of them and what they missed in life often, grateful for my own life experiences.  Some of them have been wildly financially successful, earning generational wealth.  Most of us have lived lives filled with meaning, getting through the ups and downs that life brings us.  We have faced challenges and successes, often with dignity and sometimes without.  Yet here we are, about to enter 2024, just like we entered our senior year of high school back in 1984.  Looking forward to what life brings us. I went back and found some pictures of us. Some aged well and some, well, let’s say they just aged.

Half of our graduating class. Try to find me – it definitely didn’t age well.

The other half of our class.

A group of us got to spend a month in England in November 1984. Feel free to write about my timeless look in the comments.

One of our favorite pictures from England as we got to dress in ancestral clothes

A group of us before prom. Perfectly 1980s

I was active in BBYO – most in this picture still keep in touch today.

Toga parties were the thing back then

One of my dear friends died of breast cancer this year.  She was a few months older than me, we graduated high school together, and kept in touch through the years.  Our lives followed similar paths.  Careers, marriage, children, family.  Meaningful lives that we could be proud of.  And then cancer struck.  She beat it once, but it came back and won the second time.  A .500 average in baseball would mean a unanimous Hall of Fame career.  A sad outcome in life.  We spoke a few months before her passing and while there seemed to be a resignation in her voice, she remained hopeful for the future.  When I think of her, I am always shocked that she is really gone and we won’t be able to share pictures, laughs, and the joy of our children’s accomplishments. We won’t be able to reminisce about ‘the good old days’ and laugh out loud at how ridiculous we were.

My dad died in 2022.  A few months ago, my mom told me a story that she had just recently heard from the person who was in the ambulance with him as he was transferred from a hospital in Tampa to Advent Health in Orlando.  He told this person that he wasn’t afraid of dying.  He just was sad about all that he would miss.  I think about his wisdom and insight all the time since my mom shared that story with me.  And how much he has missed in just over a year. And how much he will miss and how much we miss him. It brings tears to my eyes every single time. 

My dad, Evan and me on the field at Ben Hill Griffin stadium before a game during Evan’s football recruiting. One of my treasured memories as I watched my dad kvell over his grandson.

It reminds me that time is our most precious commodity and the only thing we can’t get back.  In 2013 when our moving truck caught fire and burned and we lost our material possessions, so many people reached out because of the loss.  Yet while we were saddened to have lost things that we loved; they were all replaceable.  And in my ‘proof God exists’ moment, the only things that weren’t lost in the moving fire were the things that couldn’t be replaced with any amount of money.  Things that came from our grandparents.  Our ketubah (Jewish marriage certificate).  Picture albums from my bar mitzvah, from our wedding, from when the kids were babies.  We can make more money, get another car, buy a different house or move to a different apartment, get new clothes, furniture, or other material things.  What we can’t get back is time.

The smell of smoke and burned things is fresh for me when I look at these pictures more than 10 years later.

So, as we end 2023 and begin 2024, I hope this is a year focused on people.  On friends and loved ones.  I have enjoyed reconnecting with my high school friends and seeing what their lives are like.  Enjoying their work and life accomplishments.  Seeing pictures of their grandchildren (I’m far too young to have grandchildren).  Watching their children graduate college, get married, have B’nai mitzvahs, and their major career changes.  Sharing stories both online and in person with each other, reminding ourselves of these special time that while long gone feel like yesterday.  I appreciate these friendships more every day and how we are able to help each other or our friends and families just because we want to and are able to. 

Just a few weeks ago, somehow the topic of a party I threw in early 1983 came up. The comments made me laugh as the memories of that crazy night came back. And of course, the next morning when I was busted by my parents and the punishment that came afterwards. Yet, 40 years later, I don’t regret it and love the memories we all share.

As we think about our goals for the new year, I urge you to think about the ones that are truly important.  They are not going to put that you ‘worked 50 hours a week’ on your tombstone. Nobody in their eulogy is going to celebrate that you ingnored your friends and family to work those extra hours. You will be celebrated for the things that you showed up to, not the things you missed to earn money. Think about the friendships from years ago and from today.  Think about what is really priceless and what is just transactional.  Invest your time and energy in the right place for an unbelievable return. As I do that, I wanted to share some pictures from this past year that re priceless to me. Because family and community is what is truly priceless to me.

My mom, brother, sister and me the day before my dad’s unveiling.

At the Orlando ballet with my son Matthew, his girlfriend Carla, and my wife Alison

Matthew and me at the Jaguars game – special father son time

Matthew and me watching my son Evan coach in the championship game for Tusculum College

Evan on the field before the conference championship game. Matthew and I are in the stands watching and cheering on Tusculum.

Matthew, Carla and me at the theater. Usually it’s Alison but when she has to work, Carla takes her place

Alison and me on vacation in Bali

Evan in his happy place – coaching college football. I’m so grateful he found his passion and is pursuing it.

Traveling to DC with a group from Orlando to join the 300,000 people who rallied in support of Israel after the horrors Hamas committed on October 7, 2023. I’m proud to be one of the people who were there.