Thursday, October 1, 2009

...A Few of My Favorite Things

About Rome...

Pizza a taglio, al prosciutto, ai funghi (mushrooms), and alle patate e salsiccia (potatoes and sausage):


Gelato with real whipped cream:


Caffe latte e un cornetto integrale al miele (honey-filled whole wheat croissant):


Fresh fish at Ostia:




Homemade peperoncino and olive oil:


These trees, called pinette, that are particular to Rome:


Villa Borghese:


Buildings with wooden shutters:


That everyone has a balcony:


Buildings that look like this:


Seeing these in random places:


Fiat 500s....the car I would be if I were a car:




Happiness for me....

Saturday, August 1, 2009

In memory of my beloved Dad

This started out as a photo travel blog, but at the request of friends and family, I'm posting the eulogy I gave at my Dad's funeral. The post below it contains our photos from Paris in April, just a week and a half before my Dad first went to the hospital. Although he clearly must have been very sick at that time, we had the gift of ignorant bliss, and he was able to enjoy Paris with his family.

Full eulogy:

Thank you all for coming to celebrate my father’s life, say goodbye to him, and support me and my Mom during this difficult time. I’ve thought a lot about what I want to say about my Dad today. To me, he was a loving, supportive and wonderful father, but he was much more than that to his family, friends, and to every person who knew him.

When I think of my father, I immediately remember all his wonderful qualities. He was always kind. I don’t think he ever said a mean word to anyone in his life. He was often quiet, observing people and listening to conversation, but he remembered everything and enjoyed being around friends and having a good time. He also knew how to tell a joke better than anyone, and we would all listen attentively and with baited breath as he’d perfectly deliver the punch line. Another thing about my Dad that I try to emulate myself is his honesty and values. He was always honest, almost to a fault, and refused to cheat or do something the easy way, even when it seemed like it wouldn’t be a big deal. He was always brave and willing to try anything once. He enjoyed life to the fullest, appreciating everything he had and always sharing his joy with those around him.

In talking to people over these last weeks, many have spoken of his tremendous intelligence. When we used to play Trivial Pursuit – always the version from the 80s that had references to the USSR, West Berlin, and Yugoslavia – he would know all the answers that no one else could remember. However, even with all the knowledge he had, he would never make anyone feel less than—instead, he was eager to share what he’d learned with everyone around him.

Aside from his integrity and wonderful personality, my father also accomplished and did many things in his life. He started out as a high school calculus teacher, and used to tell me laughingly of how his students called him, “Zostak—monster from Poland”. Later, he went to NYU Law School and became an attorney. He had a small private practice in Woodside for 25 years. But, despite a busy work schedule, he picked me up from school every day. We’d drive home, talk about our days, then eat dinner with Mom every night.

My father also had many hobbies that he enjoyed. He was an avid violin player, loved music, and was part of a string quartet for over 15 years. In fact, one of his favorite memories was when Scout, our beloved dog, used to accompany him to string quartet practice, and sit quietly listening as they played. He used to say that Scout particularly loved Hayden. As anyone that’s seen our basement knows, my Dad also loved to collect books and read. He even read in French and spoke it fluently, using it during my parents’ trips to France and Quebec. He loved to travel, and over the course of his life got to travel to Italy, France, England, Scotland, Quebec, Hawaii, Spain, Poland, Mexico and the Caribbean. And everywhere he went, if there was a painting by Caravaggio, the great Italian artist, he saw it. My Mom and I think he saw nearly every Caravaggio painting that exists.

Another of my Dad’s hobbies—if you can call it that—was going to the beach. He loved the beach, and were he with us today, he would probably be sitting on the beach reading his book at this very moment. And after the beach, he’d probably go home to help my Mom cook one of their wonderful meals. Although he didn’t cook himself much, he loved to be her second in command in the kitchen.

My Dad’s relationship with my Mother is one of the things I admire most about both him and her. They were the loves of each others’ lives, and I consider myself lucky to have been able to see such a thing. My parents were married for 37 and half years—10 of them before I came onto the scene, and 9 of them after I moved out. I have always admired their relationship so much, and it was wonderful to live with and witness the love my Dad gave to his family. He was always doing kind things for us. In the mornings, the first thing he would do was go downstairs, get a glass of water for my Mom, and bring it up to the bedroom for her. He also was a big fan of what he called “S”es. S stood for surprise, and whenever he saw something that he thought one of us would like, he’d get it, come home and announce that he had an S for one of us. My mother also recently shared with me that when I was an infant and cried during the night, my Dad would always be the one to get up, get me, and bring me to her.

I’d also like to mention some of my fathers’ relatives and friends that he cared about so much. His sister Diane and his lovely niece Cathy. His sister-in-law Connie and brother-in-law Charles, with whom my parents have had many adventures and many laughs. His sister-in-law Mary and Tom, who always welcomed my parents to Florida, and who helped get him to finally play golf, which my mother was overjoyed about. His brother-in-law Mike and sister-in-law Joyce, who came from California to be with us during this difficult time. My mother’s cousins Alice and Shashi, who have been close friends for years.

And my Dad’s friends: Madeleine and Alan, who were my parents’ partners in crime and beach buddies, and with whom my Dad enjoyed many parties and barbeques. Wolf and Karen, with whom they had many adventures, like canoeing down the Delaware River. Elizabeth and her daughter Kristin, who we practically lived with when we all used to live in our old apartments, and who are fixtures at our parties and family events. Murray, with whom he shared his love of music. Larry, his good friend and business partner. Cathy and Vinnie, who were also fellow beach lovers and with whom we traveled to Rehoboth Beach with for over 10 years. The Borellas, our neighbors and fellow dog lovers. Sally and John, with whom my parents spent many weekends in Vermont. Gerry, our friend, one-time dog-sitter, and perennial expert with house renovation—with all my Dad’s great qualities, home repair expertise was not one of them. And of course, Father Bill Sweeney, who has been a source of support, strength, and hope for my father and family through this difficult time. I mention these people because they are all people that touched my father’s life in various ways, and whom he enjoyed seeing and spending time with.

I am so grateful that my parents were able to travel to see me this past year in Rome and in Paris. When I remember my father, I want to remember him as he was in Paris in April—full of life, running around, eating wonderful food with gusto, enjoying having a mid-day coffee at a sidewalk cafĂ©, taking everything in around him, sharing his joy with me and my Mom, teaching us about all the history of the places we were seeing, browsing for books at the buchanists on the banks of the Seine, and appreciating the wonderful life God gave him.

He was loved by many and would do anything for his relatives and friends. I experienced that quality of his to the fullest, as his daughter. I couldn’t have asked for a better Dad, role model, and friend. He and the lessons he taught me will live in my heart and actions forever.

In closing, I’d like to recite a prayer I know my Dad loved:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Paris

This week I was in Paris with Mom & Dad....documentation below.

Our street, Rue du Bouloi, near the Louvre:


Walking across Pont Neuf on the first day. If that sounds familiar, it's probably not because you know so much about Paris-- it's probably because Jason Bourne sets up a meeting with the CIA dude there in the Bourne Identity!



Flower market:

Bird market:




These statue/fountains are all over the place in Paris. I think some Englishman put up the money to create hundreds of them to place around the city:


Loved the art deco Metro entrances:



At lunch on Ile St. Louis, the small island next to Ile de la Cite, where Notre Dame is, among other things:


Chocolate statues everyone must have: A pig playing the sax and a monkey riding a bike:


At the Marais, a cute neighborhood that houses the old Jewish district, many nice shops, and the Picasso museum:



Pausing at a park in the Marais:


El Beso, at the Picasso museum. Have to say it was better than the Picasso exhibit we saw in Rome in December:


Having a coffee in the Marais:


Childhood friend on a wall:


We tried to find a restaurant here, until Dad realized that he'd picked up his bookstore list instead of his resaturant list. There was indeed a bookstore there, however:


Random fake beehive on a building corner:



Lovely Parisian building entrance:


At Napoleon's tomb:





At lunch -- False Advertising:


L'Arc de Triomphe at the end of the Champs Elysees:


Statue of Charles DeGaulle, great French liberator/statesman/military strategist:


The Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel, in front of the pyramid entrance to the Louvre:


In Montparnasse, paying homage to Ernest Hemingway. He hung out at the Rotonde, the Dome, and the Closerie des Lilas, as documented in numerous of his books, both fiction and nonfiction, including his great memoirs of 1920s Paris, A Moveable Feast.



having a coffee at the Rotonde:


Hemingway wrote The Sun Also Rises at La Closerie des Lilas in a 6-week stretch:





"Silvia Beach's bookstore and lending library", as it is known in Hemingway's books/stories:


In Montmartre at L'Espace Dali, a Salvador Dali museum. Totally amazing.


Some sketches I loved:




View of the Eiffel Tower from Montmatre, which sits at the top of a hill:

Sacre Coeur of Montmartre - also seen in my below Eiffel Tower pictures from afar, perched at the top of the hill of Montmatre:


Me in front of Sacre Coeur; Paris in the background:


The "Agile Rabbit", where Picasso apparently hung out when he lived and worked in Montmartre in the early 1900s. Later he moved to Montparnasse, where Hemingway and all them lived.


Walking home after dinner one night, captured this evening photo:


Eiffel Tower:



View of the city:


View of Sacre Coeur and Montmartre:


Notre Dame:







One of the famous "Rose Windows":


Sainte Chapelle, which they call the "jewel box of Paris". Like Notre Dame, it is on Ile de la Cite. The upper level is stunning - all stained glass. Lower level:


Upper level:


Gargoyles on the facade: