Fathers and Sons -- Talk!!

My Father and His Son

By Avrum Rosensweig


In the past, I’ve written about the gift my sisters and I were born into, having parents who were committed to the welfare and growth of the Jewish people and the world.

My father, Phyvle Rosensweig (rest in peace) and mother, Gitel, (until 120), deeply cared about the frailties of humankind and the awesome divinity of our every breath. Their legacy as a care-giving team beats like a drum within the souls of the thousands of Jews and non-Jews they touched.

However, as so often occurs within men whose spirit embraces the entire planet, my father was not quite as natural at directing his powerful energies my way. He was so ‘public’ it was difficult for him to be ‘private’. Our relationship, in fact, was predicated on his disappointment in what I was not, and my disappointment in his inability to champion my spirit.

As our relationship deteriorated I began to dislike myself and became depressed. My father’s feelings were similar and made worse by the fact he was a Jewish leader, consulting others on healthy parental relationships. This must have been very difficult for him.

My father died in 1989. The barbed wire of pain we had constructed between us had become so jagged that his physical passing was easier for me than the death our relationship had suffered prior to the day of his demise. The emotional and mental burden of our strained father-son relationship played a major role in the development of my panic and anxiety attacks. I am however, thank God, healthier and stronger every day.

I write this article fully aware of the fundamental tenant within Judaism to ‘honour one’s father…..” regardless of whether he is dead or alive. This is not a diatribe by an angry and bitter middle-aged son against the man who fathered and raised him. Quite the contrary. Through my words, I sincerely hope that a living, breathing father and son suffering as we did, might learn and grow through our experiences.

Learn how to express your love for one another. Do so because a mutual embrace and a positive word of recognition can make a difference between a healthier adulthood or one fraught with years of despair and self-doubt. Celebrate each other’s personality, quirkiness and foibles whether they are what you had hoped for or otherwise.

Figure it out no matter what it takes. My father and I lacked the tools to explore and find a safe place to celebrate each other’s character and our unique familial bond. Instead we suffered quietly knowing the other was in deep pain yet never acted on an underlying awareness that he was my only father and I was his only son – and the love between us was very real.

By the time my Dad died, we had become virtual strangers. Damn. Why didn’t we have the time or the where with all to discover the things that could have made our lives better.

Work your relationship with reckless abandon. Find a brilliant parent and make them your mentor. Join a support group. Find yourself a life coach. Don’t allow your son to suffer quietly and think that his ‘flawed’ personality is responsible for the pain between you.

When you are old enough flip it around. Give your father a break from his guilt and sadness, possibly stemming from his belief he could have done better; should have broken the chain of bitterness that had existed between him and his father.

Love your son like the Biblical character Avraham loved Yitzchak. Trust your father like Yitzchak loved Avraham. Sacrifice for one another. The father-son relationship is inherently complex. Yet when it shines, nothing can dull it. And the reality is, it is easier to hug a father and express shear joy in this unique relationship, while he is still alive.

(To respond to this article, e-mail Avrum atavrum@veahavta.org).