Sunday, July 27, 2014
On behalf of myself and my family, I thank you for your caring support today as we gather to honor my father's, Stanley's, life. Most of all we thank you for the years of love and friendship you have shown my family and my dad.
As I looked through a book of blessings I found a blessing:
"Recalling the generations
we weave our lives
into the tradition;"
by weaving our lives into the traditions passed on by our ancestors through our parents we allow these traditions to be living and changeable traditions.
My dad would never have considered himself a religious person, but as a father he instilled in all of us the essence of being a good person, seeking justice and compassion and living with heart; and so he taught us the essence of being a Jew in world that we could work to heal and renew.
From my early years he began to teach me about doing good in the world by illuminating our path through questioning. This questioning began, for me, by his teachings about the McCarthy era witch hunts and my father's great admiration of Edward R. Murrow.
My dad's way of teaching me history was to tell me stories and to expect me to participate intelligently in political conversations. I knew as much about the Great Depression, WW II and the McCarthy era as I did about current events. My dad taught me that "To forget the past, is to repeat it." He challenged me to seek out justice and to be the best person I could be.
I recall a time when there was a debate in congress about lowering social security by 3%. My dad, who depended on social security to live, wrote a letter to the senator in charge of social security legislation saying he would be willing to sacrifice the increase for the sake of the country. We have much to learn from people like my father and my father's generation in which community comes before the individual.
As a father, he gave me support, love and admiration. He loved sports and still rooted for the SF Giants, his team from 193 3. He always encouraged me to excel in sports and he was not hampered by the fact that I was a girl. As an infant he turned my stuffed animals into baseballs and taught me how to throw before I could walk. As a teenager at the bungalow colony we went to he always bragged about my softball skills; and once when I slammed a ball right through the pitcher's mound you could hear him screaming from the sidelines "that's my daughter."
But my father combined his love of sports with a sense of history. He understood how there had been many great women athletes in sports and the struggles they faced to be successful. He also taught me about the depths of racism in this country by teaching me about the Negro Leagues and the discrimination that African American people faced in sports. So even with sports he understood that there were many injustices.
He was very proud of my intellectual achievements. On my college graduation day one of my teacher's was pointing to my dad saying "that's Carla Schick's father." Later I found out that my dad had told this teacher during freshman orientation that his daughter is Carla Schick and she is brilliant. My dad was always popular and remembered, and I was very glad that I hadn't heard this story until after I graduated.
Once when I was in geometry he said to me, "any kid who does good in geometry can't be a kid of mine." Well everyone who knows us, knows that I look like my dad. And the greatest irony is that now I teach math.
There are many many stories about my dad because he touched so many people's lives. I learned from him to yell at the TV when the republicans are on (although this is not so relaxing for my mother). After his first operation for a brain tumor he was attending a senior meditation group, and they asked him to write down the most stressful thing in his life. One might have thought that he would write about his brain tumor, facing mortality, having a disability, but , no, my dad wrote..... "the Republicans."
I am glad that my father lived long enough to see a Democratic president get elected and to see his beloved Giants win the World Series two time. And even more that he was able to see his three grandchildren grow into teens and young adults. But most of all I am glad that he had the time to spend with us so we could know him better and so that he could see his grandchildren grow into beautiful young adults.
There are many gifts he has given us over the years and for me in particular. I would not be the person I am today without having had his guidance and companionship as a youth. Much of what I know about history, sports, jazz and working for justice for all people came from my dad.
I am glad for the 22 years we had with him after his first brain tumor. For one thing, he began to talk more about his life after that illness. I learned more about his life growing up and about his parents who I remember only vaguely. So I have the gift of his words.
He taught all of us in his desire to be alive and to face the adversity of illness and disability that we, as human beings, are more than our bodies. We are mind, spirit and passions. He taught us about the complexities of being human and the journey we can take even when there are difficulties.
It is difficult to let go of the physical presence of a person. I long for more conversations and stories. But my dad's voice resonates within us; my generation and his grandchildren's generation. And because his voice resonates within us there will be still other generations who will carry forth his spirit.
I miss you dad. But you are with me now even as I speak.
