” Let the great world spin for ever…”

 – Locksley Hall, Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1842)

I never knew anyone with a stronger grip than my father, mentally or physically. Both were evident on Hanukkah.

Mentally, he could recite all the blessings, benedictions and verses of Maoz Tzur, without consulting a Siddur. Physically, his fingers were so strong, he could spin the dreidel into perpetual motion. To his young son, it seemed that was the Nes Gadol, the great miracle. His dreidel would spin forever.

Until it didn’t.

On his final Hanukkah, we left Manhattan as soon as Shabbas was over to light candles with him in Queens and return in time for the kids’ Hanukkah parties. As we entered however, I could see something was wrong. He was glaring at me.

“What’s the matter, Dad?”

“You know what’s the matter!”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!”

We had had this painful conversation before. Many times before.

“Humor me, Dad. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“You........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)