Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world.

Special Treat – Cynthia Groopman

December 18, 2007

Father
by Cynthia Groopman
 
As I proudly stood at the Cedar Park Cemetary on a warm and sunny Sunday in July of 2004, and touched the gravestone of my dear dad of blessed memory, my thoughts transported me back to a hot night on August 16, 1996. The day was hot and humid, 8 years ago.

Dad who was 86 at the time, frail, white haired, slight but his blue eyes shone and danced like twinkling stars, gave me an unusual hug before I left for work. I just enfolded his slight body into my arms and thought of him when he was strong, young, healthy and the pillar of my life.

Dad was born in a small town in Upstate New York, in March of 1910. He was born on a farm, a son of immigrant Russian Jewish parents. He was the middle son and at an early age learned to be self-reliant. He used to take the cows to pasture, milk the cows, and do other chores at the tender age of 6.Although, he was not tall he was very smart and very mature for his age.

When he was twelve, he moved to the big city and went to high school in the
Bronx NY. He lived with his aunt and cousins. He was resourceful and taught
children mathematics as a side job. He was an excellent student and did very well. He was a mathematical wizard and also great at science.

However, due to the inability to pay and the need to work during the day, dad
decided to go to college at night. He worked during the day at the Con Edison
Company. He studied engineering at night at the City College of NY, which at
that time was tuition free. It took him twelve years to graduate.

His study hall was the NYC subways and lunch hours and coffee breaks. He did
very well and finally received a BS in engineering. His decision to join Civil Service of NYC was based on the fact that there was a depression and there was discrimination amongst the big companies towards Jewish people at that time.

Dad took his Civil Service exam and was appointed as a JR. Engineer. He worked
in the Bronx, Borough Office of NYC department of Water Supply Gas and electricity. He worked hard and sent his brothers to school to become pharmacist and dentists. He supported his ill dad and mom, who lived with him in the Bronx. While working for the City, he went at night to get his master's Degree. He went to CCNY and Brooklyn Polytech to get MS degrees in Physics and in Civil Engineering.

Meanwhile, he moved his work place to the Municipal Building in Manhattan, which was near City Hall. There he would stay at various engineering positions in City Employment for 50 years.

Dad was a good man, giving people a chance to work, a one-legged man, and a man
who was not well.  This was before the American Disabilities Law. Time went on. Dad received his degrees and he was promoted in 1950 to Division Engineer of Water Control. He was in charge of figures, preparing annual reports, etc.

Dad met my mom and married in 1946. He was 38 years old when my twin brother and I were born, but he was vibrant, young, had a youthful appearance. His hair was blonde, as radiant as sunshine. He was a mellow, unassuming man, very humble, very kind and above all a great dad and teacher.

To earn more money, because the city was not paying much at that time, he was a teacher at night at Pratt Institute. He taught math to adults. He was patient and kind and I remember him marking papers and gave his students fairness, and the benefit of
the doubt. Growing up with dad, he taught me to be prudent, self-disciplined, self-directed, caring, kind, organized, humble and to help others. We used to play math games and he helped me learn math. We had a blackboard, and he would give me long division problems. He would push us on the swings and also sing to us. He loved music and many a Saturday afternoon, he would take out his classical collection and he would teach us the love and joy of music.

Time went on. He became Chief engineer of the entire Department of Water Resources in 1967 through a stiff civil service exam. That was the highest Civil Service Title that a person could have.

He was a good boss and all loved and respected him. I worked for him in the summers and loved him, too. His gentle voice sounded like a melodic note of joy. He was honest and we would call him Honest Abe. His name was Abraham. As I matured, he helped me learn to be a good listener, to help others and to be compassionate and to give people the benefit of the doubt. As a teacher, his words of wisdom helped me a great deal. Dad was a giver of good advice and I loved his pearls of wisdom.

When I was having the acute attack of glaucoma due to the medication that I took, dad was my constant companion. He went with me to doctor's appointments, was with me when I was in the emergency room, when I had laser surgery and when I had dark days of blindness. We would walk together, shop together, do laundry together, and I would enjoy his company in the park in the summer. We would marvel at the blue sky and the sunshine and I would clasp his hand. When I began to be a volunteer with the senior citizens in 1991, he accompanied me to the first interview. He was my rock of Gibraltar and my arm on which to lean.

As he developed heart problems, I was his companion, going with him to doctors, and to the bank and for hair cuts. We had a special rapport. On that August day in 1996, that hug that was described earlier in the story, would be the last one from him. At seven that night, he died in my arms. He went gently into that good night into the promised and enchanted land. He has evoked such strong emotions in my heart and in my mind and so many poems were written by me about him. He was my most treasured father and a gem of a man, a real gentleman. I know that he is watching over me and making the same impact in my life, now in Heaven, as he had made when he walked the earth. I love him dearly and shall always pay homage to him.

Cynthia Groopman

cynthia.groopman@verizon.net