My Grandfather

My grandfather. An intellectual, physician, historian, Refusenik. A quiet man who had very strong and firm beliefs, and a lot to say. The person who believed in me most, always encouraged me to reach my full potential, and instilled so much pride in me for where I come from and who I am.

My favorite photo of him, which I unfortunately do not have, was in New York after he came here as a refugee from the former Soviet Union. He attended a gathering in support of Soviet Jews, who had still been stuck in Russia. My other favorite photo of him was taken in Israel, which was his biggest dream. He actually had every intention of going to Israel when leaving Russia, and not the USA, but my family was given permission to go only to the USA.

I think that if he had the opportunity to be in my position- having freedom, growing up in the USA, receiving an education not censored by a communist government, opportunities to speak up for important matters- he would have. Everything he was and everything he wanted me to be, I have encompassed. Intentionally and unintentionally. And I think he knew I would. He saw himself in me. 

My grandfather in medical school, in Russia. 

Everything I do comes from a place of passion. But more importantly, it comes from understanding my responsibility. To those before me and those who couldn’t and still can’t do what I have the privilege to do. 

He had Alzheimer’s and couldn’t remember who I was for the last 2 years of his life. I spent all the time I could with him knowing we didn’t have long. I wrote him a song. I made him a photo album which he kept looking at with the same excitement each time because he would forget he had already looked through it. The very last time I saw him he had remembered who I was, for the first time since he had initially forgotten me 2 years prior. Actually, I was the only person in the room he could name. He passed 3 days later. 

Several years later I volunteered at an Alzheimer’s center in Israel, where I worked particularly with older Russian speaking individuals who had also left the former Soviet Union. My grandfather was quite literally one of them. My being there was very fitting. It was another way for me to give back. It was bringing everything full circle.

I carry his photo with me everywhere I go. As a reminder and as inspiration. When I think of him, I think of all the things I could do right. 

“When I die
If you need to weep
Cry for someone
Walking the street beside you.
You can love me most by letting 
Hands touch hands, and
Souls touch souls.
You can love me most by
Sharing your goodness and
Multiplying your acts of kindness.
You can love me most by
Letting me live in your eyes
And not on your mind.
Love doesn’t die
People do.
So when all that’s left of me is love
Give me away.”

- When All That's Left Is Love, Rabbi Allen S. Maller