A Day Like No Other

Today is the fourth day of the Jewish month of Elul. For me, the day comes with a doubly poignant feeling to it. On this date in 1972, my grandfather, Rabbi David Zwick a"h, left this world. Because I was only 21 months old when he passed, I never had the luxury of really knowing my grandfather. From what I know from others, I missed a lot. The picture of my grandfather that hung in my parents' homes throughout my life showed a man with a pleasant and gentle smile. Other than that and knowing that my grandfather was a rabbi who taught Hebrew at various Jewish schools in the metro Detroit area, I never knew much about him.

Since moving back to Michigan eleven years ago, I have come feel great pride at being the grandson of a man I don't even remember. It seems like every Jew in the Detroit area between ages fifty and seventy had my grandfather as a teacher. As I meet people in both my communal and professional lives and they hear my last name, they ask if I was related to Rabbi Zwick.

The most memorable example was when, soon after law school and returning to Michigan, I was working for a law firm that represented creditors and trustees in bankruptcies. I was dealing with a file in which I sent a demand letter to innocent beneficiary of fraud demanding that he return the money, around $1,000. A few days letter, the recipient called me and started yelling that he did nothing wrong and wasn't going to return the money. After I argued with him and saw that we weren't going to get the money without a legal battle, I told him off the record that it wasn't worth our while to pursue the matter. Upon hearing that, the man immediately became friendly and asked if I was Rabbi Zwick's grandson. I said that I was. As I would hear many more times over the years, the man recounted what a nice man and good teacher my grandfather was. Needless to say, hearing that over and over again has given me great pride.

Exactly 21 years after my grandfather's passing, the fourth day of Elul was no longer just about my lineage. It became the day of my own greatest achievement, when Lesley and I married. A few months earlier, while driving on the Florida Turnpike between Orlando, where I attended a conference for work, and Boca Raton, where I would be spending Shabbat with some friends, I had time to think and realized after months of dating that I needed Lesley in my life and that I wanted to spend our futures together. While I pretty much knew where our relationship was heading, marriage wasn't something we had really discussed.

The next week, while on vacation in Las Vegas, Lesley and I were browsing in a book store. We were perusing one book that was meant to spark conversations by posing life questions. It sure worked. The first page to which we opened asked where the reader sees himself in five years. I said that I saw myself married to Lesley. She agreed. That was that. As soon as we returned from the trip, I went to the jeweler to order the ring and proposed the following week. After all, as Billy Crystal said in "When Harry Met Sally...", "when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

The rest of my life so far has been the best part of my life. There have been many laughs and a few tears, but every second has been the best because they have been with the woman I love, my best friend, the woman with whom I will, God willing, have and raise children and share this wonderful thing we call life. I don't know where it will take us. I just know who I want with me along the way.