In loving memory of Rubin Strum

Few people realize that my father had great difficulties in his early life. Even we, his closest family never learned the details, but we know he grew up in an orphanage in spite of the fact that both his parents were still alive. He must have felt abandoned, disconnected, and distinctly unloved. I think this sad circumstance must have shaped his character – my father expected nothing from life. But this sad circumstance did not make him bitter or mean. On the contrary, my father was remarkably selfless and giving.

My father was never interested in trends, never expressed strong desires, and never spoke about himself. At various times he took to computers, coin collecting, and his own peculiar chain-saw version of landscaping. Still, I’d categorize these interests as more curiosities than passions. What really defined him was his quiet pursuit of the aims of his family. He had an understated desire to give to those around him and to share his unique creativity and insights. He was completely generous with his family, providing us with a beautiful home, college educations, and extensive travel abroad. He provided for us, took care of us when we were sick, paid attention to us, and so much more.

In spite of all this giving, my father was always something of a loner, and passion seemed to be something he lived without. In fact, his lack of passion led me to suppose that he was just living on the surface of life without ever experiencing anything deep. It is only in recent weeks that I realized that I had been mistaken all these years.

My father lived out the last weeks of his life in a hospital bed. For most of this time he was unable to communicate. I expected this time to be morbid, clinical and tedious. Instead, I observed something incredible. Without being demanding – without even being able to demand – my father was constantly surrounded by people, in a room saturated with family and love.

Family histories are said to repeat, and I realize in retrospect that my father had dedicated himself to making sure that the patterns that characterized his own growing up – patterns of abandonment, disconnectedness and being unloved – would not continue to characterize our family. I am deeply thankful to him. I can hardly think of a better legacy! Rubin Strum, Dad…. I will miss you.