My dad Harry Marks, circa mid-1950’s or so, with his mom (my grandma), Leah Marks. She was generous and loved my sister and I with an intensity I understand now that I’m a grandma. The last time I saw her alive, she had taken a bus all over Peoria, IL in search of ingredients to make me strudel. She never learned to drive, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from searching out golden raisins for her oldest granddaughter’s favorite treat.
My dad, with two of this three grandchildren. He loved all three more than words could begin to express. The look on his face in this picture brings tears to my eyes this Father’s Day.
I get it, dad.
Now that I’m a grandma, I get it.
I miss them both, but I hope the best of my dad and my grandma’s legacy lives on in the way that I love my kids and grandkids.
Happy Father’s Day, everyone.
