Posts Tagged With: Father

Day 445: PCP (March 21, 2014)

Yesterday, I wrote about a very positive, encouraging visit to my Primary Care Physician/ Practitioner/ Professional.

Today, I would like to write about a few more PCP’s.

The first is yesterday’s lunch, at the hospital cafeteria:


I might call that a Perfectly Composed Plate, or a Perfectly Composed Picture; however, some might disagree. I know I can label that picture, above, “Pancakes Created from Potatoes,” with no fear of undue discussion.

The second PCP I wanted to mention, in this post, is a Professional Compliment Paid to me, recently.  That is, I have been invited to be on the board of a group psychotherapy organization I respect highly.  This was a surprise, and it means a lot.

The last PCP I wanted to write about today is a personal, cherished parent —  my father — who passed away, on this date, 17 years ago.  Other words that describe him:

  • Private (First Class, in the U.S. Army)
  • Compassionate
  • Phunny.

Look,  I know that last “P” was forced, but funny just HAS to be in any list of adjectives used about my father,  whom I’ve written about several times before (including here, here, and here).

When people say I am like him (and they have), it’s another amazing compliment.


What do you think?

Here’s a quote, from A. Koplow:

The pain of a loss reflects the importance of the connection.

So there’s a lot of gratitude, mixed with pain, today.

I’ll end this post with another acronym. RIP.  Rest In Peace, Dad. I miss you.

Wait! One more thing.

My father loved potato pancakes, too (although we never ate them in March).

Thanks to all my dear readers — past, present, and future — for witnessing me here, every day.

Categories: inspiration, Nostalgia, personal growth | Tags: , , , | 23 Comments

Day 252: My Father’s Birthday

Today, September 9, is my father’s birthday.

My father, Aaron Koplow, passed away in March, 1997.

Three months after that, I found out that I was pregnant, at age 44, with my only child.

My father, when he was alive, assumed he would never be a grandfather.

If I know anything in this world, I know that my father and my son (also named Aaron) would have been great friends.  They would have shared a lot in common, including a wicked sense of humor and kindness towards others.

When I woke up this morning, I wasn’t sure how to do a “good enough job” honoring my father, here in this blog, on the date of his birth.

I think I already have.

Before I end, though, I did want to show you a pair of images,  to tell you a little bit more about my father and my son.


Here’s the deal about this first photo: My father had lost a bet with his best friend, Nell Zaitchik — who also had a great sense of humor. The above is how he repaid that debt to her.   I don’t know what the wager was about, but that’s my father’s hand-writing (below and on the bill itself).


Here’s the deal about that second photo: About five years ago, somebody lost a larger bet with me (regarding who was playing a jazz solo). The above is how he repaid that debt to me. I’m showing this not to brag (or to marvel at the coincidence), but to point out the writing between the two bills, which was a quote from my son.*

That’s something else my father and my son share: they are both very quotable.

I’m very grateful, this morning, to have heard so many of those quotable quotes over the years.

With many more to come, I’m sure.

Extra-special thanks to my father, to my son, and to you, too, for reading today.


*  If you are having trouble reading that piece of advice from my son, it says, “DON’T BET WITH MAMA.”

Categories: personal growth | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

Day 148: Dreams I Have Known

I had a dream last night where I didn’t like what was happening and I wanted to wake myself up.

My father used to have these kinds of dreams. I remember hearing him make these odd, high-pitched noises in his sleep, and my mother helping him to wake up.

This dream occurred for me, last night, soon after I fell asleep. (The typical time for these dreams, for my father and for me.)

The dream wasn’t particularly scary. It just involved my son coming upstairs.  But I had a “bad feeling” in the dream.  And I knew it was a dream. And I wanted to stop the dream, and wake up.

As always, I struggled to transition out of sleeping into waking. I tried to assist that process by vocalizing — making noises.  As I did, I could hear the echo of my father’s sounds.

Then, I went downstairs, to check on my son. I just wanted to make sure he was okay.  He was.

When I awoke this morning and was trying to decide what to blog about today, I was thinking about that experience, and remembering that I’ve made a Note to Self about a future blog topic …..

Recurring Dreams.

I think it’s interesting what dreams recur for people. And I’ll tell you about a recurring dream that I used to have, a lot.

The dream varied, each time, but always involved these components: (1) at some point, I would need to reach somebody by calling them on the telephone and  (2) I would have lots of trouble doing that. Something would always get in the way of my using the phone to reach them. Often, I wouldn’t be able to see the parts of the phone I needed to, in order to make the call.

Each time I had this dream (which was often in the midst of some kind of adventure-type plot), the results were always the same. I would never get through, with whatever message I had to deliver.


I don’t have that dream any more. I haven’t for many years.  But I remember what those dreams felt like, vividly.

Frustrating.  Scary.  Draining.  Panicky. Discouraging.

Here’s how I’m “interpreting” that old dream, right now:

Communication is very important to me.  If I don’t connect with people, I feel bad. The consequences of NOT connecting can be dire. Isolation is scary.  Seeing clearly is important, in order to connect.  And having an urgent message, undelivered, is terrible.

I actually like my old, recurring dream. I like what it says about my priorities.

And I especially like that I’m not having that dream, any more.

I’m wondering: What kinds of recurring dreams have you had?  What do you think they might mean?

Thanks to all.

Categories: personal growth | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

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