Let's not only remember, let's learn.

Over the last month, and now in the coming week, my dad and I have had the privilege and honor to speak to students from all over, including Newark, NJ; Norwood, NJ; Old Tappan, NJ; and we will be speaking in Harrison, NY tomorrow.  In each case the students continue to amaze us. These students range in age from 5th graders all the way up to 11th graders. Each situation is unique. Some students have already read the book and are coming into the assembly with questions formulated and an understanding of what my dad went through. In other schools, these students had no idea what they were about to hear. They knew that they were going to hear about a Holocaust survivor, but the details were never shared.

It's amazing how different many of the questions are depending on where these kids are being raised. Yet their is a common theme to them all.  When we speak to a group of students that have many immigrants in the audience, they are very interested in how my father got here, what were his experiences. If the students are being raised in an atmosphere of violence, their questions tend to turn more inward - How do you live without hate? How do you get over it?  But regardless of where theses students reside, their is a common theme to their questioning - What can we do?

Think about that for a moment.  No matter where we go, our youth is yearning to know if they can make a difference. Can their voice be heard? For us to be able to speak to them and explain to them that yes - they are our future. It is about them, about what they take away from this story. The story is not pleasant. It brings up a subject matter that makes many uncomfortable. It is hard to try to imagine that this man standing in front of you today was once a child that suffered so much. And to see that he went on to live a full and complete life, and yes even a happy one, is truly amazing.  But it is not about just his story. That would not be enough. It is about teaching the lessons that we can learn. 

I know it may sound corny, but I have to believe that he survived for a reason.  Perhaps that reason is exactly what we are doing now. To take these experiences and teach the next generation about tolerance, respect, perseverance and hope.  Even if we can reach just a few, it is a few more than we had yesterday. I am hopeful for us as a society. I do truly believe that deep down most people are good. If we can get those voices to rise louder and stronger than the voices of hate we have a chance, and to do this we must start with the youth.

This weekend starts the week long commemorations for Yom Hashoah -Holocaust Remembrance Day. On this remembrance day let's not only remember, let's learn.

Try not to sweat the small stuff!

So I just returned from my annual Las Vegas Trade Shows trip.  Each year I leave on Memorial Day and spend about 8 days in Las Vegas attending a multitude of trade shows during "Jewelry Week".  Yes it is very tiring and long, but the best part of the week is the fact that I get the chance to see so many people that I have known for so many years, all in one place.  Many of them I am fortunate enough to call my friends. 

This year was extra special. So many people came up to me and acknowledged my new book, Together: A Journey for Survival.  I am so grateful for all the outpouring of support and accolades.  It is actually quite overwhelming.  So many of these people have known my dad, some for close to 50 years, and yet so many of them truly had no idea what he had gone through and where he had come from.

The lesson here is, how well do we really know those around us?  Do we judge them or make conclusions about them without knowing all the facts? In my dad's case, he is always so joyful and always has this energetic smile that is so infectious. Everyone has such a great respect for him and admires his positive attitude.  Who would have thought that this same man endured a nightmare that most of us could not even dream of?

How can we learn from him to make ourselves a better person?  I think the next time we start sweating the small stuff we should pause and just think about what we are getting so angry or stressed about.  Take a breath, walk away for a moment, and just reassess the situation and approach it again with a different attitude.  Most things are not life and death, although they may feel like it at the time.  All of us have bad days, even my dad, but remember, tomorrow is a new day, with new beginnings and new hope. Embrace the life we have been given and let's all try to be a little nicer to one another and treat each other with just a little more respect.

Take a moment to say "Thank You"

Memorial Day weekend is upon us. As families all over start preparing for barbeques, parades and parties, I want to take a moment to say "Thank You". 

Those two little words are so over used and I hope their meaning is not lost on those that receive the accolades.  Thank you to the men and women that sacrifice themselves, sacrifice their families and allow us to enjoy all those hamburgers and hotdogs this weekend!  Thank you to the countless soldiers that fought wars in the past for our freedom and for the freedom of others. And Thank You to those soldiers that liberated my family and allowed them to survive, and ultimately allowed me to be born.

If it was not for the unselfishness of these brave souls, people like me, my sister, and my children would not be here today. Who knows how much longer my father would have been able to survive during the Holocaust. How much longer he would have been able to hide from the monsters that wanted to make sure his existence was wiped from the face of the earth. Thankfully, we will never have to find out.

So in simple terms - Thank you for your service

Family

When my dad came to America, he was sponsored by my grandmother's family. She had three sisters and a brother that had immigrated to America way before World War II started.  She had not even met her oldest sister until she came to visit my dad for the first time!  I can't even imagine.  When the war was over, her siblings here in America wrote letters back to Brzostek, hoping to find a relative that survived.  That is how they reconnected.  My grandmother was the only one to survive from the entire family in Poland.

After the war ended, my grandmother, father and aunt stayed in Poland and lived there until 1957. At that time they emigrated to Israel. At the time they left Poland, my dad was enrolled and attending law school, and my aunt was going to dental school to become an orthodontist.  The news that they were leaving Poland was a shock and the entire exit happened very quickly. They were only given about a week notice.  Poland was becoming increasingly dangerous for Jewish families.

When they got to Israel there was not enough money to send my dad back to law school and my aunt back to medical school.  My father told his sister to pursue her career and he started to search for a "job".  He worked for a while in a factory that manufactured ammunition. The reality was that he was not happy, and my grandmother saw it. The opportunities in Israel to make a living were not great. She finally convinced and basically "pushed" my dad to get on a boat and go to America.

Coming here must have been frightening. He knew no one, had never met any of his relatives, did not speak English and had only $5 in his pocket.  When he got off the boat, he was greeted by one of his cousins, who recognized him from a photo my grandmother had sent. The problem was, he only spoke English. Somehow they got by, and when my dad got to his aunt and uncle's house, luckily they spoke Yiddush, so finally my dad could communicate with them.  He quickly enrolled in a class to learn English and he was on his way.

Our family here really took him in. He had a huge family, lots of first cousins and he quickly became close with them all.  I remember growing up always surrounded by my dad's cousins and their kids.  We are all very close, and even though we now live all over the country there is a special bond we all share. Most people are so close to their first cousins, but after that their more distant relatives are just that - distant. For me, my second cousins are as close as my first. My dad's first cousins became his adopted American siblings. But the fact is, most of them really did not know or understand what he went through during the war.

Writing this book is for them as much as it is for my children. This is their legacy, their family, their history. I have heard from so many of my cousins, heard how excited they are to read it, and after they read it, how touched and moved they were. I am very close with one of my cousins, and his mom, Phyllis is one of my dad's first cousins who lives close by. Tomorrow is my launch party and first book signing. She insisted that she must attend the event.  And then I got a call from one of my cousins, Amy.

Her dad, Billy, and my dad became very close, again another first cousin. Unfortunately, as happens, Billy is not doing well, Parkinson's is a horrible disease. They live in Altoona, PA, which is probably close to 5 hours away or more.  Billy wants to be here to support my dad, to see him again, and maybe for the last time, and to support me. I am blown away. They are making the long drive tomorrow to come out for the book signing. Words can not express how much this means to not only me, but my dad.

To go through what he did, to feel so alone in the world for so long. To think you are the only Jewish person left alive. These are feelings I can not even begin to imagine. But then, to find family, to  know they are here for you, and to know they genuinely share your joy and happiness and are happy themselves for you, is one of the most moving and important lessons.  Family is everything, Sala proved that in her determination to keep her family together. Our family has stayed together.

Inspiration

It has been almost a week since I launched the book Together. Wow what a week! I am overwhelmed by the amount of support and emails I have been getting.  I have always known, and even wrote about the charisma and magnetism my father has. Going through this journey has just reinforced how many people admire, respect and love him.

So what is the take away from this all?  I see it as quite simple. Here is a man, who experienced the worst kind of hatred, discrimination and terror, that most of us can not even imagine. Yet he is kind, giving and always has a smile on his face. I am not sure how he does it, to be honest. Growing up as a child of a holocaust survivor, it is almost like a badge that I wear, and I truly don't think many others can understand it, unless they too have experienced it. It is the little things that you start to notice. Like, why did we never have a dog growing up? My dad does not like dogs at all!  I realized in my adult years, this is probably because the Nazi's used dogs when hunting for people, and somewhere in his subconscious, he associates these two.  I really don't think he even realizes it himself!

But despite it all, he never rose his voice or yelled at us, he always treats people with respect and his honor and word are the most important things to him.  He is an inspiration and I hope we all can learn that we can overcome the obstacles and negativity in our lives to accomplish good and be good people.

Launch Day!

Launch day is here!  I can't believe it.  OK, so I admit, I have not slept much, the nerves are on end, but I am so excited to start having everyone read it!  What a journey this has been.  I never realized that when I decided to "write a book" it would take me down this path.

First, I have met some amazing people.  I have always had mentors in my life. People that have inspired me, driven me, and supported me.  It is such a blessing to have found a new mentor, and a new avenue.  As exhausting as this has been, the joy I have gotten from the look in my dad's eyes that this is finally happening, is something that is beyond words.

Over the last few days, I have been interviewed by a few local newspapers and publications.  A couple of common question are:
Why did you write this book now?
What was the hardest part for you?
What do you want people to take away from reading the book?

Why did I write it now?  Many of you have heard about my experience when I went back to Poland in 2009 for the re-consecration of the Jewish cemetery in Brzostek, my dad's hometown.  The goodness and kindness I saw in those villagers inspired me to get the story down, hence the beginning of my blog.

What was the hardest part?  We all have parents and grandparents, and many times, that is where we start and end in defining them as people.  One of the hardest parts was the realization that my grandmother was not just my joyful, mushy, cute Baba Sala. She was a woman. A woman that had to endure things that I probably will never really truly understand or fathom or quite honestly know. It was hard opening up my inner self to those feelings, and putting myself into her head. I could not truly do it.  And my dad.  Hey, he's my dad!  But to think that he was not just robbed of his childhood, but of his innocence, made me look at him and think, how is he such a great guy and not bitter? He amazes and astounds me everyday.

What do I want people to take away  from reading the book?  It is actually quite simple.

There are good people in this world, truly good people.  With all the ugliness around us:violence, hatred, blood - to know that goodness exists is powerful.  To understand that TOLERANCE is key. My dad once told us the following and I will leave it at this:

"I am a survivor of the holocaust however I am from a generation that is fading away. In a short period of time this generation will not be around anymore. However the message that we have has to survive future generations and it makes no difference who you are, a Jew, Christian, Muslim or any combination. It may happen to you, it depends who is in power at the moment. Don't allow it and be aware of what is happening in the world and don't turn a blind eye and think it can't happen here or again. "