My dad died today.
I wish he had lived longer.
But Dad was an amazing man, a force of nature (as my aunt Myra said). He did so many things. In his medical career, he was the the American dream come to life, leveraging his empathy with patients and his business talent and his awe-inspiring energy for endless hard work into a high climb through the economic classes. In his politics, Dad was too wise, and maybe too sweet-hearted, to expect others to bootstrap themselves the way he did.
My Dad loved Judaism with a passion, studying hard and then just as passionately teaching what he knew to others. He loved a good joke, and — as my email inbox can attest — many not-so-good jokes. He wrote poetry and loved music, especially the music of Bob Dylan, which he knew like an encyclopedia. Sometimes it’s hard for me to see my father in myself, but I look at his Dylan collection — countless CDs, books about, books of poems — and inwardly I see the large wall of comic books in my home, and I know our venn diagram circles are overlapping.
Dad was enormously, unfailingly, almost ridiculously generous to people who needed his help. My mother said that the only thing that ever truly made him unhappy was a problem he couldn’t fix. Isn’t that a wonderful way to be remembered?
He loved cooking. He loved good wine. He gave me more second chances in my life than I can count. He was so, so proud of my book. He loved his friends (who have gathered around my mother in the last few days like the warmest, most protective blanket imaginable). He loved his family.
He loved me and my sister and her husband and his two beautiful grandchildren. Most of all, he loved my mother.
The final diagnosis came less than a week ago, and I wish there had been more time for Dad to say goodbyes. But he died in his sleep, looking peaceful, surrounded by his family, Bob Dylan playing on the stereo. Nicely done, Dad.
God, I wish he had lived longer. He should have lived longer. But my Dad was a great person who lived — who built — a great life, not just for himself but for so many around him. And that’s something I’ll remember with great joy. Which is what a life like my Dad’s deserves.
Photo: Larry Deutsch and Toby Hirschberg, who would later be Toby Deutsch, in 1959.
A love-oriented man, obviously, the very best kind. I wish I had known him. I’m so sorry that you lost him this early, but so glad that he made such a positive contribution to your lives and so many others. May his memory and the gifts he gave live on, and may the joy he sparked in you grow every year.
There are never adequate words. My deepest condolences. My thoughts and prayers are with you and yours.
I am sorry for your loss, and my thoughts are with you.
I am so sorry for your loss. Your father sounds like a wonderful person.
Also: Ignore my email from earlier today. I will take care of it.
Oh my. This is a lovely tribute. You make me wish I’d known him. I hope you can hang onto the joy even in the midst of grieving, and I hope you will have lots of loving company in your grief.
I am so sorry for your loss. Barukh Dayan Ha-Emet.
I’m so sorry for your loss. You’ve memorialized him beautifully.
This was lovely, Barry. I’m so sorry for your loss, but you’ve written a lovely memorial.
—Myca
Condolences to you and your family on your loss. What little majesty we can gain on this Earth is through the memory of others, and it seems your dad has earned his in spades. For what its worth, many of the great qualities you’ve described in him are also apparent in you, and that’s the best testament to a parent that can be given. *hugs*
What a wonderful memorial you’ve made to your father, Amp. I’m sure he must have been very proud of you and your work. He sounds like such a good man.
My sincere condolences on your loss.
My deepest condolences, Barry.
Thank you for sharing your wonderful memories of your father. My father died decades ago but my memories of him continue to be vital, cherished, and soul-nourishing. I wish the same for you.
I thought i knew everything there was to know about LD but I learned something new in your very touching remembrance.
Such a beautiful tribute. If I lived a million years, I never could have captured it so perfectly.
Barry,
I’m so sorry to hear that you’ve lost your dad. I wish I had known him. It sounds like he was a hell of a human being.
Grace
Dear Barry,
Please accept my condolences. May your father’s memory be for a blessing.
Warmest Regards,
Eva
Barry,
This is a lovely, lovely tribute. It is wonderful that you have such memories of your father and that this how everyone who reads this blog will know and remember him as well.
My condolences–
Richard
A very beautiful eulogy, Barry. I am glad he lived long enough to see you published. He had many reason to be proud.
I am sorry for your loss. May his memory be a blessing.
Sorry t0 hear it, Amp. It’s tough. Peace to you and your family, your mother especially.
You and your family are in my thoughts. May your memories be a comfort.
I am sorry
My sympathies. I love the way you put it–venn diagram circles overlapping.
I am saddened to read of your loss. My condolences to your family.
More head pats, and thanks for the nice post (and good life). Seems like you’re doing your best to keep spreading the love…
I’m so sorry to hear this, Barry. Sounds like he was a great father.
I’m sorry for your loss.
I’m so sorry for your loss, Barry. This is a beautiful memorial. Take care.
Adding more condolences and best wishes for good love and support from those around you.
my condolences *HUG*
What a beautiful tribute to your father. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Shit. Dammit, you doing okay? I mean, I’ve been there…. there aren’t words. My meaningless, heartfelt condolences to you and your family.
Now, because this is the internet, I feel the impossible compulsion to say something terrible:
Barry, son of Larry? Damn.
I’m so very sorry. May his memory be a blessing, indeed. And it sounds like it is.
So sorry to hear this, though it sounds like he lived well. My heart will be with your family.
I am so sorry for your loss. Everyone should be so loved in this life as he clearly was.
I’m so sorry for your loss.
This is a wonderful tribute to someone who sounds like a wonderful man. Condolences to you and your family on your loss.
Thank you, everybody, for your comments. They’re really appreciated.
And SiF, I’ve often found that entertaining myself. There’s also a Gary Deutsch in the family.
Sending love your way. Now I better understand your generosity and community-building roots.
That’s rough. We’ve all got to go sometime, but it’s always too soon, isn’t it?
*hugs* for the very little they’re worth.
I’m so sorry about your father. This was such a wonderful tribute. It brought tears to my eyes.
What a beautiful tribute. I am so sorry for your loss, and despite not knowing you or your father personally, I am very moved by your words about him. How blessed you and your family are to have had him in your lives, and how sorrowful to have to say goodbye.
I’m sorry for your sad loss.
I apologize if my earlier comments were inappropriate. Allow me to make up for it by linking to something a little more suitable for the situation:
Graham Chapman’s memorial service
“[D]eath is so sad that we must laugh at it.” – Robert A Heinlein, Stranger in a Strange Land
Doug: I think it’s just a weird situation. No offense taken, at least not from me, but I did receive a note from a reader asking me to remove your comment (which, I note, had already been removed by the time I went to do it, so obviously at least one mod agreed).
Anyway, no hard feelings, be well.
Yet another inappropriate comment by Doug deleted. Doug, please stop posting comments on this blog.
This is not an invitation for you to defend yourself or your views, or to explain what you meant, or to apologize. Just please don’t leave any more comments here.
Geez, sorry for your loss, Amp. From your wonderful eulogy, it sounds like he put his sixty-eight years to good use; and he shoulda got more than that number.
My condolences, and thank you for the touching eulogy.