This page of course is dedicated first and foremost to you dad. I miss you every day and won't stop till I die. I miss cooking for you, playing backgammon, talking, joking around, seeing you smile, arguing about the dumbest things, and just having you around. I'm not the only one who misses you to be sure. I know Mom does and so does Teddy. This is for them and for my future children. This is for your old frinds and aquantinces, for Yaffa and Arron, for your mom who also has passed and for your dad. And also for Uncle Artie and Aunt Carol and their kids. I know the family was not as close as some of us had wished but they are family none the less.
My father, Jay Scott Magilner was born in Philadelphia on March 10, 1955. He has one son(me), a wife(Raya), according to him two brothers(Artie and Ted), and a sister(Carol). His parents were Edith Rose Magilner and Alvin Magilner. Both of whom have passed as well. He has three nephews(Mark, David, and Josh), and a niece(Abby).
My father had a somewhat rough childhood. His parents divorced when he was young, and it caused some problems for him. He eventually did some traveling and ended up in Isreal where he met Teddy and my mother Raya. The story of how he and Ted met is a funny one, also a story I never heard until my godfather/uncle Ted told it at my father's funeral. My father was at a party at his friends place on the Kibbutz. Ted walked in and there was this big fat guy sitting on the edge of this chair stirring this big vat of "punch". This guy was wearing nothing but this big odd looking hat and his underpants. Ted came up to him and said hi and this guy asked him if he wanted some "punch". That is when Ted noticed that his nuts were hanging in the punch. The guy was holding up a cup a "punch" and had this big stupid grin on his face. Ted took the punch and knew at that moment that this weird guy and he would become the best of friends. Sure enough they did. For almost thirty years they were frinds. I love my godfather as much as I do my real father. He has always been there for us and we for him. My family would not be complete without him.
My father did not make it in college and finding a job that was right for him was hard. He did find some happiness working at deli's and became good with customers and eventually became an assistant manager at one of them. That unfortunalty came to and end. But he did end up in the best job he had ever had in his life. He eventually ended up working for a great man named John Lewis. My father was made into management before he knew it. John gave my father a chance and something he thought he had lost...his pride and dignity. My father loved this job and John and he became friends. When my father became ill he refused to go to the hospital for fear of losing this job. So against everyones better judgement he continued. It took it's toll on him and eventaully he had to be taken out of the apartment in an ambulance. He had emergancy surgery and was doing fair for a little while. But the fact is that he didn't take proper care of himself before hand and that was his downfall. He spent the last two weeks of his life in the hospital ICU under twenty-four hour sedation.
On January 14, 2001, I got the call from the hospital to come in. They said my father was not going to make it. I called my godfather and he picked up my mother and me. We sat there for four hours talking to him and holding his hand, and around 1:40 pm he left us. He did not suffer and sometimes I regreat not taking him off the sedation before hand. But I realize that would have been worse to watch him go like that. Against his wishes we all decided that we would bury him so we could go be with him and see him when we wanted. And thanks to John we had a beautiful funeral.(John also hired me so I could support mom and myself)
I hope he is watching me as I am now. And I hope he is proud of me. I am trying to be like him in some ways and also trying not to make some of the same mistakes he did. I say this because I know he would not want me to make those same mistakes. He was always pruod of me and told me that I could do anything I wanted to in life. He always encouraged me to be the best that I could. Never did he put me down or say I would fail in life. He taught me kindness, openmindedness, compassion, and to love books and take in all the knowledge I could from them. He taught me how to cook and how to enjoy life and respect all the others who live on this planet with me.(He was a hippie, what can I say?) Again, I miss you dad. I know that you would not wish for me to cry over you but guess what....tough. For once I have the final say, and I say it's ok for me to cry for my father. I love you dad. And whereever you are I hope you're happy. I hope you like what I have made for you.