This is my dad, David Urman, of blessed memory. I think of him today on Father’s Day and every day.
In this photo, taken in 1982, he radiates pure joy while holding his first grandchild, my son, Lawrence. Dad was a Holocaust Survivor. After his brutal incarceration at Auschwitz and the catastrophic loss of his family in the Holocaust, he immigrated to the United States with barely a penny in his pocket and only an eighth-grade education. In spite of what seemed like insurmountable odds, he founded a successful wholesale meat business.
My father was an extraordinary person. He had such a zest for life. I’ve never known anyone who approached life with such enthusiasm. He had rosy cheeks, a twinkle in his eye, and a spring to his gait. And how he danced! At a simcha (celebration) nobody danced as joyfully or incessantly as my father. He loved to rejoice in life’s happy occasions. Every morning at 4:30 am, before the crack of dawn, my dad left for work. He never missed a day in all my coming-of-age years. He was steadfast, reliable, determined.
He was never really ill. If he did catch a cold, his remedy was a glass of hot tea with a shot of vodka and a squirt of lemon. He was better the next day. He loved watching westerns and comedians on TV. I loved to hear him laugh. His laughter was so hearty and exuberant, it was infectious as it reverberated through our home. I was the most fortunate of children to be blessed with such a wonderful father. His love, optimism, and indomitable spirit will live on as we honor his precious memory from generation to generation. #fathersday
Source: Judy Elbaum
