My Pop, of Blessed Memory

My beloved father, Yaacov ben Yitzchak of blessed memory (image right, age 42 when the photo was taken), left this earth on the 15th of Adar Aleph, 5760, exactly nineteen years ago. Pop's yahrtzeit - this anniversary of his death - is tonight and Wednesday. This post is dedicated to him.

Pop was born in Winnipeg, Canada in 1921. His father came from the Ukraine, a shtetyl called Yanov, half way between Breslev and Berditchev. Like a lot of immigrants, my grandfather left observant Judaism behind in the Old Country, so my father was born into a secular home. Yet, he spoke perfect Yiddish and was the warmest Jewish heart you'd ever want to meet. He gave loads of his money to charity; he supported widows and poor Torah scholars. He loved everything Jewish, from traditional food to music. He had no problem polishing off a bottle of vodka with a plate of herring and black bread. He had the voice of a cantor, and when he'd sing, the neighbors would ask what radio station we're listening to.

Pop was the only Jewish combat pilot from Western Canada in the RCAF in WWII. He had a double enemy - the Nazis and the antisemitic Canadian peers who more than once tried to sabotage him.

He wasn't religious, but my Pop had a love for Israel, for his fellow Jews, for widows and orphans, and for Hashem. He had more emuna than most. His famous expression was, "Wait to worry." He never ever complained about pain or discomfort, and profusely thanked Hashem for every new day. Pop's legacy includes three generations of Torah-observant Jews in Israel and more on the way, G-d willing...

I miss you so much, Pop. I miss your hug and your strength. Please forgive me for not doing enough to honor you properly.

Here is a treat in Pop's loving memory: The is one of his favorite Yiddish melodies, Oyfen Pripitchik, played by violinist Boris Savchuk. Enjoy it - it's one of my favorites too: