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----- Original Message ----- 
From: Joe Mazzella 
To: [email protected] 
Sent: Wednesday, June 16, 2010 2:26 PM
Subject: Fw: [WarmFuzzyStories] My Dad





From: Phread 
Sent: Wednesday, June 16, 2010 8:09 AM
To: [email protected] 
Subject: [WarmFuzzyStories] My Dad


  
Happy Hump Day, Readers!
Enjoy today's story, and don't forget dear old dad this weekend!
Warmly,
Phread
=======

My Dad
By Cynthia Groopman

Dad and I were always close, but as he aged and became frail, he especially 
developed a warm relationship with me. When I lost my eyesight in 1988, due to 
a medication accident, he was my constant companion during the transition 
before rehab process began. We went to the stores together, and I would walk 
with him, hand-in-hand, and speak about the good old days.

Dad was born on a farm in Woodburn, NY. He was the son of immigrant Jewish 
parents from Russia. When he was nine, he would take the cows to pasture.

At 12, he came to NYC and lived with his aunt and uncles. He went to Morris 
high school in the Bronx, then got a job with the Con Edision Comany. He 
studied at City College at night, while working during the day. He finally 
received his civil engineering degree and began his long career with NYC.

He then received masters degrees in both physics and engineering. He advanced 
himself from the title of Junior Engineer to Chief engineer of NYC Water 
Resources Department and worked 50 years there. He was a wonderful, caring man, 
who taught us self-discipline, punctuality, duty and obligation, and doing good 
deeds. He had a wonderful sense of family. He was named Abraham, meaning 
"father of nations."

He was a father to his employees, caring for them and giving chances to 
disabled employees at that time before ADA. He was also loving to my maternal 
grandmother, who lived with us for 25 years, and to my maternal uncle when he 
as in a nursing home.

After I began volunteering at the senior center, I always went places with him, 
and he would not go anywhere without me. We were always together. 

One day, August 16, 1996, he was especially loving. Before my intercom rang for 
my driver to transport me to work, he gave me the biggest hug and kiss I ever 
had in my life. He was on my mind all day. I was really wondering why his face, 
sad and drawn, was appearing before me.

When I returned home, I finally realized why. He was not feeling well. We 
called 911. I was told to sit on my dad's bed with him with my arms around his 
back supporting his body, not to let him fall down. He was flailing his arms. 
He was clammy, and his labored breathing and gasping made me sad. I knew God 
was calling him home to His paradise.

I told dad how much I loved him and how wonderful he was to me. He was my rock 
of Gibraltar, my mentor and role model and he always believed in me.

The sirens began to sound, then the EMS, police and paramedics rushed into my 
dad's room, and told me to leave. I began to cry. I knew that it was the end.

When he was wheeled out of the room, with tubes in his nose and arms, I was 
told to take his hand, squeeze it and kiss it. The hand that was once strong 
and firm, the hand that guided me, the hand that was there for me, loving and 
gentle, was so weak. I told dad that I shall forever love and cherish him, then 
kissed him goodbye. 

The phone rang and told us that dad expired. My bedridden mom and I were alone. 
Tears of sadness rolled from our eyes. There was a void in our lives. 

At dad's funeral that Sunday (Jewish people do not have funerals or bury people 
on Saturdays), I gave a speech, and the words so eloquently rang out. I really 
felt his presence. 

Several years later, when my brother and I went to dad's grave, I read a poem, 
"Remembering Dad," in Braille, and the page was enveloped by a gust of wind. 
That was God's spirit. Later, I found out that my poem was going to be 
published in an anthology, and I won the editor's choice award.

My dad appears in dreams at times, and I feel his presence everyday. He was the 
sunshine of my life, and when my days end, we will be united spiritually in 
God's arms. I miss is his gentle voice, blue eyes, blond hair and sunshine 
smile. He is forever in my heart. He is beloved eternally.

--Cynthia Groopman [email protected]
---------------------------------

Cynthia is a poet and retired teacher, who now works as a volunteer teacher, 
counselor and group facilitator with senior citizens and also a counselor for 
homebound elderly. She has been totally blind for 22 years due to a mediaction 
accident. She uses Jaws, a screen reader that allows her to use a computer and 
e-mail. She also reads Braille and use a white stick for mobility. She has won 
many awards for volunteering for 28 years including the Liberty medal in 2006, 
being cheered at home plate at Yankee Stadium by 54,000 people, the president's 
award for over 10,000 hours of volunteer service, being in the July 2007 
Congressional record, and being on radio as hometown hero, everyday hero and 
also being in Newsday as Everyone's Hero in 2004. She is also active in her 
Synagogue as co-president and was honored in 2008. She reads Hebrew and English 
Braille at the services, sings in the choir and also gives speeches about 
blindness to colleges and schools.
====================



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