Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Wednesday 20 May 2020

Made with His Own Hands (updated and revised)

Memories of my father have been haunting me recently (and I don't know why), so I have decided to revisit/repost something I wrote about him when this blog was relatively young.  It will be new to many of you, and I hope that others will allow me to indulge myself.

Father was a German Jew.  I am pretty certain his mother went to America just before the World War Two started (without him) but know nothing about the rest of his family.  It was a taboo subject in our house.  We suspect the worst.  He rarely mentioned the war, other than to say that 'War has no winners. There are losers, and there are bigger losers'. 


I know at some stage he was fighting in Egypt and I know that after the war he lived in Birmingham.  His path to the UK and his life before that is pretty much a mystery to me.

He moved from Birmingham to Australia in the early 1950s to take up a position as a technical officer at the Research School of Physics at the Australian National University (ANU).  His initial salary was nearly 300 pounds (a year) which he told me was unheard of riches.

He crossed paths with my mother and her first husband in Birmingham.  They moved to Canberra so that my mama's husband could take up a position at the ANU (also in the Research School of Physics).  My mother's first husband died, leaving her widowed in a strange country with three children under five.  Life must have been very, very hard for her.

She and my father got together and I was born about a year before they married (very brave for the time in a small community).  As a side note I only discovered after his death that he had been married when he moved to Australia and divorced his wife to marry my mother.


Mama always said that she wouldn't get married for my brothers but that she wouldn't marry to spite them either.  So a new family was formed when and only when she was confident it could work.   By and large we managed.

My father said that he had no time for religion - that it cost too much.  Certainly he was not a practising Jew and was very partial to four legged chicken (otherwise known as pork).  His stated ambition was to be the first Jewish Pope, and for the remainder of his life Christmas and Birthday cards were addressed (by all of us) to Pope Dick.

He was a complex man.  He was very bigoted about some things, and was unbelievably and embarrassingly crass about homosexuals and Italians.  And had good friends within both communities.   He talked about pink shirt poofs (and yes I cringe remembering).  One of my more successful presents to him was a burgundy silk shirt.  Which he wore until it was undeniably pink.  And then continued to wear with pleasure.



One of his bosses claimed to have an 'open door' philosophy.  Father didn't think his actions matched up to his words.  So he went into work one weekend and removed the door.  When he died (more than twenty years later) that door remained where he had put it - as the door to his workshop.

He was stubborn.  So, so stubborn.  When he had made a pronouncement that was it.  No ifs, no buts.  And he didn't change his mind.  Ever.  He was the master of what was known in the family as the circular argument.  He would state his case as he strode across the lounge room.  You got your chance to make your point as went into the hall before coming back into the lounge via the kitchen.  When he reached the lounge he would restate his case.  Repeatedly.  Until the other side gave up or left.

He disliked my Smaller Portion intensely, and banned him from the family home.  I never found out why.  So, being my father's daughter I said that if he wasn't welcome I wasn't either.  When we found out that he had cancer and was dying we put the hostilities on hold.  If he had lived nothing would have changed.

He was a fix it man.  Nothing was ever thrown out, just squirrelled away.  He was immensely patient (when he wasn't supremely the opposite).  The lawnmower was a special hate.  One Saturday when it refused to run for him he threw it into the fishpond.  And then spent several weeks restoring it to (mostly) working order.

We always had animals.  I grew up with German Shepherds (father said they were only Alsatians if they had bitten you).  We usually had birds, cats and fish as well.  My brothers had guinea pigs and turtles.  He condemned my mother and me for indulging the cats.  And then poked a hole in the fly screen near the breakfast table so that he could push fingers of toast and Vegemite out to the cat on the window sill.  Who had only just gone outside.  He chastised the German Shepherd by beating her with a blade of grass.  She yelped.

He was a big man, with thick clumsy looking fingers, and hands which shook perpetually.  And he taught himself jewellery making, and produced some very beautiful and delicate pieces.











He had a perverse sense of humour.   While he was teaching himself facetting he used Reich's beer bottles to practise on.  A visitor came to the house and he brought the latest effort in to show her.  She asked what it was 'Reichite' was the reply.  'Ah, yes' she said 'mined in remote South Africa'.  Father finished that piece and set it into a silver ring and sold it to her (at her request).  He never told her that she was wearing a piece of beer bottle.  But chuckled about it.  Often.



He did repair/restoration work for a local antique store, but charged a boredom surcharge if he didn't like the job (like the time he was asked to sharpen a set of silver forks).  He exhibited some of his work in local galleries.

He had incredibly bushy eyebrows.  And if bored at dinner parties would plait them as a subtle hint to my mama that he wanted to leave (or wanted the visitors to do so).

When he knew he was dying he got immense pleasure out of ringing the local rabbi and arranging his funeral. 'Good morning Rabbi, I want to arrange a funeral.  My funeral'. We are so glad he did - none of us would have known that he wanted a Jewish funeral.

I loved him, I hated him, I miss him.  And how I wish I had been able to coax him into talking to me about his early life.  So many questions.  So few answers.

147 comments:

  1. Oh, hon, this is deep and personal. I feel honored to have read it. I laughed about the "four legged chicken." Never heard that phrase before. Our tribe has such a complex history, as does every group of people. I'm glad you have your father's jewelry to keep him/his craft with you always.

    Thank you for sharing this glimpse of the man who took part in your creation.

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    1. Rawknrobyn: Thank you. In the comments Andrew mentioned a phrase I hadn't come across before 'beef bacon'. For all our differences we seem to be much the same - the world over.

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  2. Your father had diverse sensibilities as a scientist and jewelry maker. The circular argument is frustrating.

    My father served in WW2 and for some reason was with the British Army. I never learned the details. He did not talk about the war. He gave a fact here and there but no substance. My older brother was a Vietnam soldier and he did not talk about it either. I guess it is emotional survival to put it on a shelf so to speak and move on with your life.

    Interesting read.

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    1. Ann Bennnet: Circular arguments were frustrating. And he always won.
      I suspect that many of us (and in particular many men of a certain age) cannot talk about things which have hurt/damaged them. I hope we are getting better. I really hope it.

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    2. My father had a similar mystery family tree. Supposedly my grandfather emigrated from Germany with his parents. Long story short, I learned my grandfather had solid colonial roots into the 1600s.

      I have helped others find missing links. Everytime, there has been a tragedy. The Holocaust in incomparable in it's cruelty and evil. I suspect your father did not know his background which is not uncommon. One woman I helped get back to her 2nd greatgrandfather was looking at a mystery great grandfather. The great grandfather had lived in a poorhouse and worked as a servant as a child and teenager. He served in the Civil War which reversed his fortunes.

      I had similar thoughts. We did DNA to see if we had Native American. Long story. Ancestry has a larger database. 23 and me is more accurate with heritage varies as they learn more. I am a history buff. I enjoy anyone's family history.

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    3. Ann Bennett: If what we suspect happened to my father's family is correct I hope he didn't know. The suspicions would have been hard enough. Growing up history was taught to me as dates, battles and rulers. I hated it. I came to a love of history much later when I realised it is all family stories...

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    4. I did not care for history in that as a youth I knew history was written by the victors. Much like you, it was the family stories and memoirs that I read that stood out.

      Your suspicions are likely. We have different genealogy shows. One I like by Henry Louis Gates does the genealogy of famous people. If that person is Jewish, it is not uncommon for entire branches of their family were destroyed. When their say great grandparents emigrated, it was a risky venture. The alternative for those who stayed behind was horrendous.

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    5. Ann Bennett: Sadly I know my suspicions are likely. And my realist father would have done so too.

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  3. I read this with great interest and fascination - thank you for posting it. Life with your father would certainly never have been dull.
    My father died when I was three, so there has always been a gap in my family history - my mother was of a generation which didn't reveal personal feelings, and didn't talk about him very much when I was young. You may feel you don't know everything you would have liked him to tell you, but from reading this post I feel that he was a strong, reliable and loving presence in your life.

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    1. Alexia: Thank you. It was certainly not dull. Never dull. And not always pleasant. He was certainly strong and reliable but you are right about hidden personal feelings. We knew he loved us, but he certainly never ever said it.

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  4. There is complex but your father took complexity to a new level. What a fascinating man. I don't think many men were very tolerant of differences in people in society back them, at least not in Australia. It is a shame you didn't find out more about his early life but thanks so much for sharing what you do know and remember. I was interested when in Malaysia to taste what is known as beef bacon, acceptable to Muslims but as I discovered it is just normal bacon with a pretence that it isn't.

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    1. Andrew: Beef bacon tickled my fancy - and I am sure it would have tickled my father's too. I think you are right about the attitudes to difference and am very pleased that despite his words he made rather a lot of personal exceptions. On the racist/homophobic path he talked the talk - but didn't walk it.

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  5. What an interesting and engaging memoir of your father. The early days in Canberra are fascinating and not as well documented as they should be given its importance - not hard to guess where I live!
    I love the door story.

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    1. Sue: Welcome - and a big hello to another Canberran. It was a small city at the time my parents moved here. When my mother first moved to the small Government house in which we were brought up everyone said she was mad for living so far out. It is virtually central Canberra now.
      The door story was very typical. And despite it being symbolic of the open door philosophy after he installed it at home it stayed firmly closed most of the time.

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  6. What a great pity that he would not talk about his previous life, so much is lost by this. Unfortunately there were many people who lived through that period who would not talk about their lives. Have you ever thought of doing research to find your grandmother and any other relatives?

    Love the jewellery. Reichite LOL.

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    1. Jo: I think you are right about the hidden stories from people of his generation/experience. I know that his mother is dead (I think) but have no idea whether any of his other relatives are. One of my brothers 'thinks' he had a sister, but none of us are sure. Some day...

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  7. It is understandable that our parents and grandparents might not wish to discuss painful times, but what a loss for those of us on the later limbs of the family tree. On your father's death, I expect you grieved for both your father and for the final lost chance to have your questions answered.

    His jewellery pieces are unique and beautiful. How lucky that you have that evidence of his talent.

    And as much as I loved my dad, he could be embarrassingly racist too. They were products of their times and if they had grown up when we did perhaps their outlooks would have been much different.

    Thank you for such a wonderful post giving us a look at your father, and indirectly a closer look at you, too.

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    1. jenny_o: Thank you. Yes, I grieved but I was also glad that his pain was over. Very mixed emotions - which were common to so much of life with father. Decidedly products of their time - as we are of ours. Which is something which I hadn't really thought about until your comment brought it home to me.

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  8. I once asked quite a few questions about my husband's family (his mum and grandma were talking about the past) and was rewarded with a very interesting story but i was blamed for a lost night's sleep. Some people just don't want to duisturb the past, I suppose.

    I think that even now older men are more racist and homophobic than the rest of us (or maybe they get away with it more easily)
    Your dad was a true rennaisance man. I always admire that

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    1. kylie: Both of my parents were firm believers in letting sleeping dogs lie - and kicking them to keep them quiet if necessary. I suspect you are right about older generations being often more racist/homophobic.
      Except that I now fall firmly into the older generation (certainly in my family). An interesting thought that.

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  9. I can picture his eyebrows a little, and to make jewelry with his large fingers. You're not kidding--complex. It's too bad you don't know more of his history before the war at least.

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    1. Strayer: Those eyebrows were special. A barber once took an uninvited slice at them and was firmly stopped. He looked very odd indeed for quite a while until the butchered brow grew to match the other.

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  10. I find it interesting that your father has been on your mind of late as I am finding the same... in my case it could be all the talk of C19 infections in nursing homes as he spent the last few years in one. He managed to hang out for his 100th birthday and still had 'all his marbles' as he would say. He too made jewellery but with hands enlarged by arthritis. He didn't use beer bottles but glass marbles to practice his faceting skills. Thanks for sharing - he was certainly a complex man.

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    1. Anna: My father didn't sepnd any time in a nursing home - for which I am grateful. He would have hated it, and would certainly have made life difficult for the staff. I suspect you may be right about Covid 19 stirring my memories though.
      Glass marbles would have had challenges of their own. Do you have any of your father's work?

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  11. Your father has intelligence above average, it proved he was a scientist. Besides that, they have high artistic talent.
    He is awesome person.

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    1. Himawan Sant: Only the maths/science brain was given any value when I was growing up, despite both of my parent's love of art and their creativity.
      They were both impressive individuals - and thank you.

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  12. Thanks for sharing. Interesting to read about your dad.
    How he must have felt rejected by his own mother leaving him behind, so sad.
    Your dad appears to have been shrewd.
    Was he a Taurus by any chance - he sounds like one?

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    1. Margaret D: He was a Scorpio. One take on star signs that I have read says that Scorpios are the most likely murder victims. I can understand that. I wish I knew just how much of her family his mother left behind - and why. And yes, without doubt it would have hurt. Badly.

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  13. What a marvelous portrait you painted-- with words. My father's been dead for 50 years, and I think of a new question I want to ask him almost every day. Thanks for this post.

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    1. Bill: The questions we didn't ask and now cannot, haunt a lot of us don't they?

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  14. Thanks for a glimpse of your life. It always wonders me why spouses seem to accept behaviour in their wife/husband that they would not let pass in their children. But then again, a traumatic past can be the answer to many enigmas. I'm happy you have his jewellery, which sure is outstanding. The "Reichite" story made me laugh.

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    1. Charlotte (MotherOwl): You are right. His behaviour was accepted, which it would not have been if we had tried to emulate him. Not accepted by either my mother OR my father. His jewellery is very precious to me.

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  15. Have you done 23 & me or Ancestory? You might find some distant relatives. Especially with a Jewish father. I would start with 23 & me. Their cost is a one time thing. Ancestory wants a yearly stipend.

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    1. Mike: I haven't. Some day. Perhaps. A not entirely logical piece of me feels that if he wanted to hide it so badly perhaps I should let it be.

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  16. This is a beautiful and honest portrait - I was laughing and wincing!
    That was a clamped up generation, a sort of traumatised stoicism.
    And that jewellery is definitely priceless xx

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    1. Lisa Southard: Thank you. I laugh and cringe often remembering him.

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  17. What a wonderful tribute to your father. Pity he didn't talk about his youth, but that was a common attitude among the Holocaust survivors. I think they only started talking about it later in the 20th century, probably the 70s or even the 80s. When enough time had passed, so the memories were not so painful.
    My grandpa talked about his early years. He was the contemporary of the century - born in 1900. His memories were priceless, but I was young and didn't listen well, so I don't remember much. By the time I wanted to know his stories, he was long gone.
    Beautiful jewelry!

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    1. Olga Godim: Where his personal life was concerned he made an oyster look garrulous. How lucky you were to know your grandfather (however briefly). Sadly I suspect that many of us don't listen nearly well enough when we are young (and often not later either).

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  18. A very complex man indeed but a brave man and a survivor. I like that bit abt the open door policy and his burgundy to pink shirt. Life would have been so difficult during your parents time but it all came good. He was very gifted in his jewellery makin g skills. Family heirlooms

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    1. kestrel: He was definitely a survivor, on his own terms. One of the things he instilled in all of us was that no one owes us a living, and that we needed to learn to rely on ourselves. As he did (perhaps too much).

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  19. Such a complex man, yet I'm glad you loved him. I understand the hating too, there were many times I hated my mother until I found out what her childhood had been like, then I understood her a bit better.
    The jewellery is lovely, love the tiger eye pendant piece in the first picture. Getting a good laugh about the woman wearing a ring with a piece of beer bottletop in it.

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    1. River: Her ring might have been glass, but it was well crafted and very beautiful too. I certainly hated (and still hate) some of my father's behaviour but am slowly coming to better terms with the complex whole.

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  20. Thank you for sharing such a deeply personal portrait. I am so moved and feel so privileged to have been allowed to read it. Priceless beyond words to have those jewellery pieces. The beer bottle ring made me smile - beauty and worth are both in the eye of the beholder.

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    1. Nilanjana Bose: Definitely in the eye of the beholder. I cannot remember how much she paid for the ring, which was beautifully crafted and a thing of beauty. Would she have felt robbed and lost her love of it if she knew it was glass? I wonder (but hope not).

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  21. I love the story about the Reichite piece of jewelry. lol He was a gifted craftsman,

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    1. We are: Clamco: He was definitely gifted, but worked hard at it too. Very hard.

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  22. Thank you for sharing a part of your life with us. Your father sounds fascinating and complex. The jewelry is beautiful. I understand the longing to know more about your family’s past. I know nothing past the little knowledge I have of my grandparents.

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    1. Mason Canyon: It leaves a gap as we grow older doesn't it? Growing up I knew only the immediate family, and I definitely mourn lost knowledge, lost opportunities...

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  23. The important thing from all this, it seems to me, Sue, is that you have not come through this embittered and angry, and the delicate items made by your father are doubtless the best mementos to have, to remind you of his better side. This is a deeply personal reflection to post on line for all the world to see, and I am sure it was not done lightly.

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    1. David M. Gascoigne: I don't do bitter. And try not to do anger either. It is indeed a personal post and not easy. I suspect it would have made the subject almost ballistic with rage. Tough.
      Growing up I often heard:
      'there was a little girl who had a little curl,
      right in the middle of her forehead,
      When she was good she was very, very good,
      and when she was bad she was horrid'.
      Change the gender and it is a fair description of my father (minus the curl).

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  24. I really love these stories and although we all have them to some degree this one is particularly fascinating. Bucking the taboos of the time was a big deal back then. My own Jewish grandmother was twice divorced before I was born. I hope you can elaborate more as you recall more stories.

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    1. jono: Neither of my parents were conventional and they happily bucked trends if they considered the price worth paying. I am grateful that I fell into that category.
      I would love to hear your family stories too. Hint, hint.

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  25. Thank you so much for sharing your beautiful memoirs, so deep and touching! I love the jewellery, sooo beautiful.

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    1. Natalia: Thank you. His jewellery was and is very beautiful indeed.

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  26. You should enter what you know of him into ancestry.com, and consider doing a dna profile there also to see what you can find. Perhaps they have been looking for you also. His jewelry is beautiful. I think somewhere in the how to be a father handbook it specifically states to be complex and hard to love, but also someone we will always miss.

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    1. Cindi Summerlin: Perhaps. I am reluctant to chase his ancestory for reasons I cannot put my finger on. And yes to the complex and always missed.

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  27. Dear EC
    What a complicated man, but how well you have come through it all. His jewellery is beautiful.
    Best wishes
    Ellie

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    1. Ellie Foster: My parents were both damaged people who did their very best. I am grateful for the lessons learnt (including the lessons about the people I do not want to be).

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  28. What a fascinating man. I think, just from what you have written here, that I would have felt the same about him, ambivalent and mostly wary of him. His jewelry is lovely, though. Thanks for sharing these memories. :-)

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    1. DJan: Alert rather than wary I think. Though sometimes wary would have been sensible.

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  29. your father was an amazing, colorful personality, he kept people guessing, love his jewelry, sometimes it's hard to live with the questions. I have many about my family as well.

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    1. Linda Starr: I suspect that many (perhaps most?) families have those questions.

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  30. Thank you for sharing this piece of you. Your father sounded like a complex man and the jewelry he created--truly delicate and beautiful. Do you have a special piece of jewelry from him?
    Sending you much caring.

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    1. Sandra Cox: I have a silver stud earring which I treasure. I had two and lost one on a motorcycle ride which thirty years later I still mourn. In true 'father fashion' he gave it to me one easter, telling me that I was too fat for chocolate and that he had made an alternative gift which he hoped was acceptable. And of course it was.

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  31. A complex man indeed. His generation didn’t talk about things, they just got on with it. I imagine what he saw and experienced didn’t help either. You saw the best and worst of him and wanted to know more. The fine jewelry is beautiful and came from somewhere deep inside which I imagine he couldn’t express any other way. You were his best expression!

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    1. Marie Smith: I wonder whether the not talking about things helped or whether it allowed them to fester and grow in the darkness? You are right that it was a generational thing, and a self protection too, but I wonder. And always will.
      And thank you. He was intensely critical of me, but I hope he felt some pride too.

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  32. What a great story. Thanks for sharing memories of your father. Many veterans didn't want to talk about the war because it was too painful. It had to be painful, no doubt. Those old guys were tough and functioned in society pretty normally after the war while keeping the painful secrets to themselves.

    How fortunate that you still love him and have his jewellery to call your own. He was a complex man for sure.

    I was wondering, what life lessons did he taught you? My dad taught me love, honesty, integrity, and generosity. Those values were very important to him as they are to me.

    Stay safe and well.
    Hugs, Julia

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    1. Julia: My father taught me very similar lessons (but love was never stated, and rarely obvious). I have been thinking about your comment and 'life lessons' may demand a post of its own. One gift that he/they (because my parents often worked in lockstep) gave to us was the understanding that contributing to the community in a positive way was an obligation.
      I took that one on, and have gained an immense amount from it.

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    2. My da never said the words I love you. It was later on in my life when I was in my late 50ies that I was going through the memories of my father that I realized that he did love me by his actions. It was told to me that when I was a new born baby, he lifted me up in the air and I pooped in his hands. As I put the funny aside to look at the fact that he lifted me up above his head was proof that he did love me. Another memory I remember I was 2 years old, my mother had gone to my grandmother who lived 3 miles away (4.83 Kilometer) away to have her baby and I was unconsolable and was afraid that I would never see her again and my dad took me in his arms and carried me and also on his shoulders. That memory is ingrained in my mind. He must have loved me to carry me all the way. I remember the long steep hill of gravel road. My dad didn't had a car. One person in the neighbourhood had a car. It was after the war. In those days men didn't say I love you to the kids.

      I hope as you go through your memories, you will find that your father loved you. The fact that he wore the burgundy shirt even when it turned pink was his manly way to show you that he loved you.
      Hugs, Julia

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    3. Julia: We were often told that actions speak louder than words. Which I can see, but the words mean a lot too.
      Some of the gifts I/we gave him never saw the light of day. I was and am pleased that silk shirt was the exception. When it had faded to pink he wore it out, but he also wore it in the garden.
      Years after his death my youngest brother and I came across a dandelion set in perpex. We were not together at the time but both of us bought one, thinking how much father would have loved it - and also that he would have been able to tell us how it was made.

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    4. Yes, you are right, words means a lot too. Maybe it it would have been in a different time, your father could have shown more love.
      Hugs, Julia

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    5. Julia: Perhaps. He did the best he knew how, and I honour him for that.

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  33. For me this comes at a time where it is both hard and heartwarming to read. There are a few blanks in Mom's family's life that were buried with her. I would like to know, but then again maybe I am better off not knowing.

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    1. Anne in the kitchen: I am sorry. This post is probably too close to the bone for you now. Huge thanks to you for both reading and commenting.

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  34. Well done. I've found it incredibly difficult to sum up, or even describe fully, my parents.

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    1. Marty: Thank you. It is hard isn't it? The best I can do is share some stories which are vignettes of a part of the whole. A small part.

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  35. Goodness, after reading this I'm at a loss for words other than to say, thank you for sharing this deeply personal post.
    I think the jewellery is lovely.

    Sending my good wishes.

    All the best Jan

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    1. Lowcarb team member ~Jan: Thank you. His jewellery IS lovely.

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  36. This story about your Dad is enthralling. I read it to my husband while reading it for the first time. We both said we would have liked to have met your dad. Thank you!

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  37. Thank you for sharing this, he sounds like someone i would have both liked and disliked knowing!

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    1. Should have added, the like would have won, hands down. Just like with Ms. G.

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    2. messymimi: The pendulum swung fairly dramatically from one extreme to another with me. Often. These days I can mostly separate actions which I dislike intensely from the man.

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  38. People are incredibly complex. Add in war during the formative years and they're even more complex. I still see the repercussions with mom and remember them with dad (died 20 years ago). You've got an incredibly perceptive perspective on your dad. Sending you all the hugs!

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    1. Jemi Fraser: Thank you. Those repercussions (and the pain) can last a lifetime.

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  39. Sono tutti molto belli i gioielli che ha fatto tuo padre, molto bravo.
    Buon gioevdi.

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    1. Giancarlo: He really was an excellent craftsman wasn't he? A very happy Thursday to you too.

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  40. I am very taken with your father's jewelry. He had such a talent. My father, too, had VERY bushy eyebrows. When I was little, I used to ask him jokingly if the Swedish Chef character on the Muppet Show was a relative. (Dad was half-Swede & that Muppet had crazy-big brows.) This always made me laugh. Can't remember if Dad laughed as well.

    Your father's life in Germany could not have been easy. I wonder where in America his mother settled.

    Thank you for sharing this piece with us, E.C. I feel as if I could read it again and again.

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    1. Bea: I think my father's eyebrows dwarfed those of the Swedish chef - who I only came to know after father died.
      I suspect the last months/years? of father's life in Germany were hellish. I have a vague feeling his mother settled in New York but cannot tell you where I got the idea from or how accurate it is.
      And thank you.

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  41. Its so sad. I also wish I had found out more about my family's background.

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    1. Nas: I think a lot of us do. I wonder whether our parents had similar regrets...

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  42. Hi EC – how sad to have had that intractability that he wasn’t able to interact with you … must have been difficult – but we adapt to our childhood lives … when we don’t understand, or have the full facts … and sometimes never do. It always amazes me to read of how people managed to get around, to survive, to re-group and create new lives … your family really highlights this.

    He must have been bright and intelligent – with a wealth of information to impart … I hope some filtered down and things weren’t quite so black and white for you. I know being the eldest and being a girl, I never asked about the War – it had scarred quite heavily … not sure either if my brothers ever had those discussions …

    Thankfully people have changed and they’re not quite so bigoted as so many were … your father’s removal of the door – funny incident …

    Our parents have their biases … my father was similar in some ways … I’m glad you were able to briefly reconcile – even though you realised his attitude wouldn’t have changed if he’d been able to live on.

    The lawnmower is funny too … while your love of animals is shown here … and the cat … yet amazing workmanship he was able to create – love the beer bit story too. Beautiful jewellery … aren’t they lovely – so pleased you’ve got a few.

    Such a fun post reminiscing about your father … as you say a complex man … but interesting … and then his funeral – thank goodness he had rung the Rabbi to fix it up … and I quite understand your last paragraph, while the last sentence – yes, so do I have lots of questions without the answers.
    Thanks for sharing with us … stay safe - Hilary

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    1. Hilary Melton-Butcher: Huge thanks for your comprehensive comment. I am very, very glad (for both him and for me) that we were able to set aside our war.
      I suspect that many of us have a plethora of those unanswered and perhaps unanswerable questions.

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  43. This is a very touching post. As children our parents are just that, parents. As we get older we realize they are people, and long to get to know them well. My father-in-law was a German Jew. He escaped to Holland, then onto a ship bound for Canada. His parents were gassed at Auschwitz. He was similar to your father in many ways. He never talked of the war, had no use for religion, never threw anything away, and had the bushiest eyebrows I have ever seen.

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    1. Karen: How lovely to learn that your father-in-law and my father had so much in common. I wonder whether they would have got on?
      You are right that we often don't learn that our parents are people until too late.

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  44. Thank you for sharing this. He was certainly a fascinating person by what you have reported, but such unique characters can be stubbornly opinionated and very difficult to live with.
    My father's maternal grandparents were Lithuanian. My great-grandfather was a Lieutenant in the Czar's Army. At the time of the Russian revolution, he and his brothers were literally dodging bullets as they ran to jump on a boat out of Russia. Great stuff for a movie, to be sure.
    My father's Lithuanian relatives were a very secretive lot. My father once described his grandfather as being "more a force of nature than a man." My great grandfather died before I was born, so I never met him. I knew my great grandmother. She hardly spoke any English. She mostly showed her kindness by feeding us. My aunt once told me that my great-grandfather was actually more open and demonstrative with his emotions than was my great grandmother.
    My great grandmother died from a horrific fall when she was 90 years old. She would go up on the roof of the building her family owned to allow the sun to shine on her back. She said it helped with her arthritis. She was leaning on the banister at the roof's edge and it gave way. She fell two stories to her death.
    My grandmother and great-aunts wanted my father to not only keep the manner of my great-grandmother's death, but the death itself, a secret from my brother and me. I thought that was a very odd thing. I knew the family was very paranoid, but I've never quite understood going to that extreme.

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    1. The Ornery Old Lady: Thank you for sharing some of your family's story. I often think that families are uncharted minefields.
      You are right that my father was difficult to live with - and suspect that he found it difficult too.

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  45. Dear Sue...oh thank you so much for sharing this. Parents are complex creatures, aren't they? And, like you, I've recently been wishing I could ask my Father more about his past (he passed away from cancer when I was just 26). All I know is that his family were Romany Gypsies, so I imagine my family tree would be almost impossible to trace on his side...as birth and death certificates were often omitted.
    During WW2 he served in North Africa and in Italy, but he would never speak very much about the experience, and was left emotionally scarred by all he had witnessed there. My Mother's family had tried to prevent them from marrying, as they believed that she was marrying beneath her...but I preferred his family by far. My Mother's family always seemed very pretentious and condescending...so I guess there must be a great deal more of the Romany in me!
    My parents were like chalk and cheese...I still marvel at how they managed 48 years of marriage...😮
    I love the jewellery collection...very, very stylish!😊😊

    Have a super weekend!

    Sending you much love and hugs ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

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    1. Ygraine: I believe (but don't know) that my mother's surviving family objected to her marrying my father because (of all the stupid reasons) he was German.
      I am quite sure that you are right and that your father's family tree would be very, very difficult to trace. I know that some studies also involve census/tax information but suspect that your Romany forebears didn't play those games consistently if at all.
      As always oceans of caring are flowing your way. And yes, it was cancer that killed my father too. Quickly, but brutally.

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  46. Beautiful. What you father said about the war reminded me of a similar comment my late grandmother used to make. All was lost in the war. I used to ask her, what war, grandma? All, she said. No one wins in a war. We all lose.

    Greetings from London.

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    1. A Cuban in London: Thank you. I believe that your grandmother and my father were right about war. A lesson that I wish (fervently) that more of us could learn.

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  47. Your father, from your report on him, was a complex, interesting, intelligent, clever man. One I would have have loved to have known.

    No doubt, fluctuating emotions, like that of your own about him would have been par for the course...but what an interesting, intriguing course it would have been.

    Thank you for sharing this story with us, EC. :)

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    1. Lee: It was certainly never dull. I don't think anyone who met my father went away without forming a strong opinion about him (positive or negative).

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  48. This is such a convoluted love story to/about your father. What he experienced and what he did really says much about him.

    You had an interesting childhood, Sue. Thanks for sharing it.

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    1. Susan Kane: 'May you live in interesting times' has always struck me as a particularly vicious curse. I don't think I did think of it as interesting at the time - it was all I knew. Hindsight gives a different perspective.

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  49. What fascinating and bittersweet memories of your dad.

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    1. Lady Fi: Oh yes. He was fascinating and my memories of him are decidedly bittersweet.

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  50. Such an interesting post reminiscing about your father.

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  51. Your words, as always, are so wonderfully written, and I get a peek into the life of you and your dad. Even though your dad didn't show it, I have a feeling that he didn't like the smaller portion because he wasn't ready to let you go, and those feelings sadly backfired. I dreamed of my mom the other day, and she's been gone for quite some time. I understand how thoughts of our parents come upon us so unexpectedly, and we miss them for better or worse. Air Hugs, RO

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    1. RO: I don't think that was it, but could well be wrong. Whatever his reasoning was it didn't break my relationship up and did cause rather a lot of family dischord and unhappiness. I suspect for him too. Thank you, and yes, I hear you about those dreams. They come at their own time, not ours. Non infectious hugs to you too.

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  52. powerful sharing my friend
    you cast spell on me with your awesomely written post
    what a wonderful man was your father and how beautifully and honestly you share him with us makes me say THANK YOU SO much
    it was NICE to know him through your touching words

    this post made me think when i will be able to write about my parents as shortage of time allows me only to post instantly
    heartwarming sharing EC!

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    1. baili: Thank you so much. I am pretty certain that my father would have hated this post, and wonder how much of it he would have agreed with.
      I do hope that you can find the time to write about your parents.

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  53. That was beautifully written. My dad is 87 years old and there are things about his childhood that he won't talk about either.

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    1. Mary Kirkland: Thank you. My father died long before he turned eighty, but I very much doubt that he would have talked about the past even if he had lived longer.

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  54. Es posible que los acontecimientos bélicos hubieran marcado su vida y hubiera acontecimientos , que quería borrar de su memoria. No se puede comprender la actitud de una persona, si no se conoce su historia. Ahora descansa en un sueño eterno y habrán ya desaparecido los fantasmas que lo atormentaban.

    Me gustan los trabajos que has expuesto.

    Besos

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    1. VENTANA DE FOTO: I am certain that his early days and the war scarred him. I wish that he had been able to talk about them but agree, he is now at peace.
      Many thanks for your thoughtful comment.

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  55. I enjoyed reading your memories of your father. What a man!

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    1. gigi-hawaii: Thank you. He was definitely an original.

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  56. It's kind of interesting and kind of odd that he made jewlrey. Well, I guess none of us really know what talents our parents have until we found out. I bet he had a lot of stories to tell, shame he didn't tell them to you.

    Have a lovely day.

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    1. lissa: Quite a lot of art spoke to him, and I have no idea why jewellery was his chosen craft. I am CERTAIN he has a lot of stories and yes, I wish I had heard more of them.

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  57. What a wonderful piece of writing. I wish I had known your father. I think I would have been scared stiff of him but in awe of him too.
    I wonder if he spoke with an accent?
    I had to giggle about the four legged chicken.
    A fascinating story of a convoluted family, I love stories like that.

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    1. Shammickite: He only spoke with an accent if there was strong emotion involved (usually anger because it was the only one he let loose). Sometimes he scared me too - but awe was always there.

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    1. Giancarlo: Thank you. It is chilly and damp here - but we need the rain. I hope your weekend is lovely.

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  59. Oh EC, you brought your father to life for your readers, along with hints of your childhood. Intriguing, disturbing and heart-warming...

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    1. Kim: Thank you. I have a library full of father stories. And a complete range of emotions. I suspect I always will.

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  60. Oh this is extraordinary writing. Our fathers leave so much unsaid and often we have such mixed feelings about their places in our lives. I will never forget a moment when I was in my mid forties, in intensive therapy, asking my father for his memories before they age of 12 (I knew from one of his sisters they were heartbreaking) and he looked at me, frowned, blew on his cigar and said "That is none of your business."

    Seems there was a kinship between our fathers on what they concealed and revealed. Also opinionated. Oh my.

    XO
    WWW

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    1. Wisewebwoman: I can soooo hear my father responding in the same way. If he gave me an answer at all. Mostly if he didn't want to respond he just ignored the question. Hugs.

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  61. For sure, your father was a very complex man, as was mine. I share your mixed feelings.

    Thank you so much for leaving a note on my blog. I really appreciate it. Things are not going well here. The cancer has found yet a new way to torture my husband, and he's in the hospital now. We can talk on the phone from time to time, but I dunno how long it'll be until he can come home again, and I simply didn't have the heart to write a post. Again, thank you for checking on us. It means more than I can say.

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    1. Susan: I am so very sorry. My heart aches with and for your family. Thank you for letting me know.

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    2. Susan: Of course I care. Bigly.

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  62. Well, my coffee is now somewhat diluted with salty drippings as I apparently got something in my eyes by the end of your post.

    You stirred thoughts of my own father who passed when I was 15. I envy your memories. Precious things, EC.

    Be well.

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    1. Wally Jones: I am sorry to have salted your coffee. Very sorry.

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    2. No worries. Coffee can be replaced. Memories are forever.

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    3. Wally Jones: Thank you. You are right - and sometimes tears need to be shed. Hugs.

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  63. Your father and the Cohen who raised me sound similar and equally complex. I now have salted tea and share your very mixed feelings.

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    1. e: I am sorry that your tea has been salted. Those mixed feelings have salted more than one day of my life too. Heartfelt hugs.

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  64. What a complex and difficult man. I can imagine how you must struggle to step back far enough from the painful and unpleasant memories to find the positives. It sounds as though it will be a long undertaking, one that you'll continue to revisit in stages as you gradually process and come to terms with your feelings and memories. Maybe your recent dreams are a part of a new stage for you.

    My dad was almost an opposite to yours: thoughtful and always willing to listen to another point of view; and I never heard him speak badly of anyone or saw him lose his temper (though I know he had a temper). But, like your father, he never complimented me and I don't recall ever hearing the words "I love you". It was just the way men of his generation were. He expressed his feelings through his actions, patiently teaching me carpentry and welding and auto mechanics and target shooting. I know how lucky I was to have a caring father like him, but hearing "I love you" or "I'm proud of you" would have meant the world to me.

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    1. Diane Henders: Thank you. Both of my parents were difficult, damaged, and sometimes inspirational people. They also did the very best they could. I learned some time ago that I had to change my focus to live with the memories of my mother, and the same is true of father.
      I love you? I am proud of you? I wish. How I wish. Constructive criticism yes. Praise no. The ethos seemed to be that if you didn't hear to the contrary you were doing well. I don't support praise of every action but would have liked to have heard some.

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  65. Starshine Twinkletoes25 May 2020 at 23:58

    My comment didn't stick :/ Such a touching post Sue, a rounded picture of him, and the back history is fascinating. Calling him Pope Dick in the cards mde me laugh a lot, great humour in there but sad he could never say why he didn't like your Smaller Portion, possibly couldn't bear being replaced in your affections. The jewllery is so delicate and pretty, nice to have them as keepsakes, and I'm pretty sure I'd have wanted the cut glass beer bottle ring even if I'd known it was just that, hahahaha. Lots of love dearie Xx

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    1. Starshine Twinkletoes: The beer bottle ring was beautiful - even if it wasn't 'quite' what she though.
      I suspect (if allowed) you would have had a fine time rummaging in his workshop through they myriad of rocks, gems, treasures...

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