It's been a while...
This was originally supposed to be a comment to 
Abbys Journal post, which is locked, so you need to be her friend to read it...
We never forget the ones we love, the ones who we learned what it is to be a good person from, the ones who care, the ones whos touch lingers with you long after they have left the room.
Understanding death, feeling death takes time. When my Grandfather died, I didn't really feel anything until the year after when my mother lit the memorial candle Jews usually light on the anniversary of a death. I broke down in my room that night, finally realizing that the first person to truly believe in me, was gone. I still can't think about that without crying. My Grandfather had no qualms about letting everyone know, that out of 12 grandchildren, I was his favorite. He spolied me, in the way a Jewish Grandfather spoils his grandchildren. Everything I do, I think of him, I ask myself, "Would Zaide be proud of me for this?" Theres this strange feeling within our extended family, where my family seems to be shunned in a way, maybe because my sister and I are adopted, maybe because my Mom and Aunt never really got along when my Grandparents were in their last years, and fought over inheritance crap, which my Aunt was trying to get as much as she could. My Zaide made sure I would be taken care of, that any expense to further my growing up would be taken care of. I cry sometimes thinking somehow I let him down. The person I am is because of him, no one else. He is the one who taught me that helping someone is one of the most important things you can do in this world. I regret all the time I told him "Maybe later" when he asked me if I wanted to learn Torah, or go for a walk around Brooklyn with him, and instead sat in their apartment living room reading Readers Digest, or watching TV, never getting to the "later" part of the day. So many missed opportunities to gain more knowledge from him, so many times I could have spent more time with him. Even when he was here in Md living in a nursing home, I never really went to see him, I didn't want to see him in that state, I wanted to remember him as the man I remember in NY, constantly telling me that, "Soda is a sweet sweet poison" The man who walked with me around Brooklyn, surprising me along the way by taking me into a toy store to buy me anything I wanted. Then, six or so months after my Grandmother died, the womand who he lived for, who he loved with every last fiber of his being, we were told by my uncle that he was moved to a hosital, and in his opinion as a doctor, he only had a few days left. We went to the hospital, he was on an oxygen mask, he saw me, took the mask off, and said something which I could not make out, and he couldn't repeat, because he had to put the mask back on. I wish I knew what he said to me. I wish I had done what I had said I would do all those years, all those visits. I wish he could have been at my Bar Mitzvah, to see me on that day, the day that I became a man in the eyes of Judaism, becuase the man I am, is because of him. I wish I didn't feel like my life is a failure in his eyes. I wish I had that time back, that I had gone to see him when he was near me. I miss him, more than anything. But he is still with me, because I carry everything I ever learned from him with me. The person you all know as Brandon Shawn Silver, is because of him. Do not thank me for anything I do, thank him, because if it weren't for him, none of you would know me. I wouldn't be the good person I like to think I am.
Michele said to me the other day, "You're a neat friend, I am so glad I met you." she said that she feels that G-d directed her to Hood to meet me. I had no words for that. What do you say to that? I told her that I was glad that I met her as well, and that it makes me feel good to have such an impact on someones life.
The truth is, I owe everything I have to my Grandfather. I owe all the amazing things in my life to him. It is him that makes me want to help people. It is him that encouraged my singing. If I did not sing, I would not have met Heather, If I had not met Heather, I would have not gone to Hood, I would not have met Becca, Katie, Melissa, Mia, Jenn, or anyone I met my freshman year. If not for them, I never would have met Abby, Kevin, Nathan April, Mal, Tegan, Amy, Megan, Leah, Janelle, Michael, Sarah, Stu, Willie, Amellis, Ruxy, Fulgentia or anyone I met my sophomore year. If not for them, I never would have met Michele, Tim, Frank, Rachel, Matt, Hong, Ben, Kelsey, or either Matt's. So many friends, who I would do anything for. Because of one man.
Rabbi Aaron Gorbaty.
Thank you for giving me the life I have. I love you.
In other news, I am spending the weekend at Hood, hit me up if you want to hang, you should all know my cell number by now, if not, I will have my computer, so just find some way to find me.
Today is a good day.
Abbys Journal post, which is locked, so you need to be her friend to read it...
We never forget the ones we love, the ones who we learned what it is to be a good person from, the ones who care, the ones whos touch lingers with you long after they have left the room.
Understanding death, feeling death takes time. When my Grandfather died, I didn't really feel anything until the year after when my mother lit the memorial candle Jews usually light on the anniversary of a death. I broke down in my room that night, finally realizing that the first person to truly believe in me, was gone. I still can't think about that without crying. My Grandfather had no qualms about letting everyone know, that out of 12 grandchildren, I was his favorite. He spolied me, in the way a Jewish Grandfather spoils his grandchildren. Everything I do, I think of him, I ask myself, "Would Zaide be proud of me for this?" Theres this strange feeling within our extended family, where my family seems to be shunned in a way, maybe because my sister and I are adopted, maybe because my Mom and Aunt never really got along when my Grandparents were in their last years, and fought over inheritance crap, which my Aunt was trying to get as much as she could. My Zaide made sure I would be taken care of, that any expense to further my growing up would be taken care of. I cry sometimes thinking somehow I let him down. The person I am is because of him, no one else. He is the one who taught me that helping someone is one of the most important things you can do in this world. I regret all the time I told him "Maybe later" when he asked me if I wanted to learn Torah, or go for a walk around Brooklyn with him, and instead sat in their apartment living room reading Readers Digest, or watching TV, never getting to the "later" part of the day. So many missed opportunities to gain more knowledge from him, so many times I could have spent more time with him. Even when he was here in Md living in a nursing home, I never really went to see him, I didn't want to see him in that state, I wanted to remember him as the man I remember in NY, constantly telling me that, "Soda is a sweet sweet poison" The man who walked with me around Brooklyn, surprising me along the way by taking me into a toy store to buy me anything I wanted. Then, six or so months after my Grandmother died, the womand who he lived for, who he loved with every last fiber of his being, we were told by my uncle that he was moved to a hosital, and in his opinion as a doctor, he only had a few days left. We went to the hospital, he was on an oxygen mask, he saw me, took the mask off, and said something which I could not make out, and he couldn't repeat, because he had to put the mask back on. I wish I knew what he said to me. I wish I had done what I had said I would do all those years, all those visits. I wish he could have been at my Bar Mitzvah, to see me on that day, the day that I became a man in the eyes of Judaism, becuase the man I am, is because of him. I wish I didn't feel like my life is a failure in his eyes. I wish I had that time back, that I had gone to see him when he was near me. I miss him, more than anything. But he is still with me, because I carry everything I ever learned from him with me. The person you all know as Brandon Shawn Silver, is because of him. Do not thank me for anything I do, thank him, because if it weren't for him, none of you would know me. I wouldn't be the good person I like to think I am.
Michele said to me the other day, "You're a neat friend, I am so glad I met you." she said that she feels that G-d directed her to Hood to meet me. I had no words for that. What do you say to that? I told her that I was glad that I met her as well, and that it makes me feel good to have such an impact on someones life.
The truth is, I owe everything I have to my Grandfather. I owe all the amazing things in my life to him. It is him that makes me want to help people. It is him that encouraged my singing. If I did not sing, I would not have met Heather, If I had not met Heather, I would have not gone to Hood, I would not have met Becca, Katie, Melissa, Mia, Jenn, or anyone I met my freshman year. If not for them, I never would have met Abby, Kevin, Nathan April, Mal, Tegan, Amy, Megan, Leah, Janelle, Michael, Sarah, Stu, Willie, Amellis, Ruxy, Fulgentia or anyone I met my sophomore year. If not for them, I never would have met Michele, Tim, Frank, Rachel, Matt, Hong, Ben, Kelsey, or either Matt's. So many friends, who I would do anything for. Because of one man.
Rabbi Aaron Gorbaty.
Thank you for giving me the life I have. I love you.
In other news, I am spending the weekend at Hood, hit me up if you want to hang, you should all know my cell number by now, if not, I will have my computer, so just find some way to find me.
Today is a good day.