Eulogy, continued
My Dad wasn’t perfect, of course. He had his serious flaws, like all of us. When I was growing up, a teenager, I was much more sensitive to his flaws than his virtues. I’m very grateful that I discovered some of his many wonderful qualities as an adult. I think he developed a lot, too, as he matured.
When of my most precious memories is that of a road trip we took about 6 years ago. We explored Mt. Lassen, and the Redwood country of Northern California. We shared silent reverence in the beauty of our countryside. We read every placard in order to understand about volcanoes and ancient trees. I think it was the best time we ever shared.
When he was younger he was intensely serious and task-focused, sometimes, I think, to a fault. But he grew, and changed, and became more sociable, more affable. He liked listening to and learning about people. He enjoyed laughing. He always was very friendly and good natured.
My Dad was always interested in the world of politics and current events. He loved watching CNN and C-Span. He remained a passionate advocate for social justice to the end of his life, sending donations to organizations and signing petitions. His favorite painting was “The Man with the Hoe.” At one time in his life he memorized the poem that inspired this painting. I think my father identified with the peasant portrayed, and he also felt a passionate responsibility to make the life of that peasant better.
My father was an ardent atheist and wanted nothing to do with synagogues or religious life. But he was a proud Jew who never forgot his origins. He expressed his Judaism through his persistent, unwavering efforts to create a better world. Without being a conventionally religious man, he fulfilled the Biblical injunction: “Justice, justice, shall thou pursue.” I am so proud of him.
The last few years of my Dad’s life were very difficult. He developed several major illnesses and lost his strength, and then developed dementia. This man who was never weak, who was never sick, became sick and weak. This man who was a professional problem solver all of his life had difficulty sorting out simple situations. It was terribly frustrating for him, and he never was able to accept what was happening to him. He was hospitalized a number of times and eventually had to live in a nursing home. He hated that. To the very end he was stubbornly trying to maintain his strength and independence. He was a survivor, and a fighter. He never lost hope and he never gave up.
My Dad was a strong, tough man in the best sense. He didn’t have a tough image but he was very strong in a quiet, non-aggressive way. Most people who met him found him to be amiable and agreeable, until they tried to get him to compromise what he thought was right. And he was so proud of his strength and stamina. When he was in his 60’s he went on an elder hostel trip to China. He climbed to the top of the Great Wall. He loved to describe with pride how the Chinese people there applauded him as he was making the difficult climb to the top.
My father died early Tuesday morning. He wasn’t buried in a cemetery. Instead, we honored his lifetime wish, that his body be donated to a medical school so that he could make a last contribution to science and the well-being of all people. How typical of him. His very last act was idealistic, an attempt to make the world better.
Let me finish with a story. Several years ago I asked him if he had any regrets. He said, “Yes, I have two.” I asked him, “What are they?” “I had to leave college right after I started because my parents needed help running the store. I’ve always regretted that I didn’t finish school. I wanted to become a nuclear physicist.”
“The second regret is that I didn’t get to see world peace in my lifetime.”
My father used to talk with pride about the way his grandfather was honored after his death. Gentiles as well as Jews stood in front of their shops out of respect for him, as the funeral procession went by on the street. As I’ve said, he was a modest man and I think he would be a little embarrassed by the honor all of you are showing him today. But I think he would also feel proud, and, on behalf of my whole family, I’m grateful for you being here today.
Steve Schiff