Today my dear father Moisey (Misha) Levin would have turned 73 years old. There is something mystical about these digits 7 and 3 this year. My father was born in 1937. I was born in 1973 and I am turning 37 this year. Well, if you think about it, it is not quite so mysterious:
1973 - 1937 = 36. 36 + 37 = 73. 1973 + 37 = 1937 + 73 = 2010.
1973 - 1937 = 36. 36 + 37 = 73. 1973 + 37 = 1937 + 73 = 2010.
Every year on this day I remember my dad (actually, I think about him almost every day). Often I can't help crying, when I think about him and about his early, sudden passing away.
Strangely, the image that comes to my mind most often and most vividly is that of me (being 15 or 16 years old) hugging him tightly and trying to lift him up. Another one is of me at the age of 4 or so, climbing all over him and playing with his beard as he is sitting in an armchair, looking into the distance, thinking his thoughts. Yet another thing that I can almost feel in the present is the touch of his warm, bread hand against my hand.
I also vividly remember the morning of Sunday, March 28, 1993, the day when he passed away. He was in a cheerful mood, was concerned about my studies and offering to help. I just told him that it's ok, that I can handle it, and went on puzzling over a piece of mathematical research, which I never really finished ...
He was a good man, a father and human being to be proud of. I'll write more about him some day. Rest in peace, dear papa.
Strangely, the image that comes to my mind most often and most vividly is that of me (being 15 or 16 years old) hugging him tightly and trying to lift him up. Another one is of me at the age of 4 or so, climbing all over him and playing with his beard as he is sitting in an armchair, looking into the distance, thinking his thoughts. Yet another thing that I can almost feel in the present is the touch of his warm, bread hand against my hand.
I also vividly remember the morning of Sunday, March 28, 1993, the day when he passed away. He was in a cheerful mood, was concerned about my studies and offering to help. I just told him that it's ok, that I can handle it, and went on puzzling over a piece of mathematical research, which I never really finished ...
He was a good man, a father and human being to be proud of. I'll write more about him some day. Rest in peace, dear papa.
