Zeideh Dovid. My zeidy. I see him with a sefer, sitting at the head of his dining room table, learning. Beside him lie some papers, a box of tissues, hand sanitizer, and of course, a requisite carton a fresh figs. He's learning, davening, utilizing every precious moment of his. Zeidy was a man of few words- no chit-chat with him, but stories were his forte. He reveled in telling tales of the Rebbeim, of chassidim, of mesiras nefesh and mesorah. He needed to pass down his wealth of history, his chassidishkeit, his memories and lessons, to the next generation. He could talk for hours about those things. Zeidy was mesuder, meticulous and practical. He didn't waste time and he didn't mince words. He was emes. He stood strong in his values and mesorah. Zeidy appreciated nature and the wonders of Hashem’s beautiful world. I remember being fascinated by his tremendously large flat-screen, where, along with him, I’d love to watch calming nature scenes and National Geographic videos of the incredible landscapes, environments and wildlife that Hashem created. I have fond memories of my family taking Zeidy and Bubby out to the beach. Zeidy and Bubby would sit, watching the gentle ocean waves and lively seagulls vying for attention overhead. We would sometimes walk along the Venice Beach pier, observing the fishermen catch their sea creatures and enjoying the orange-pink-and-purple sunset slowly give way to sparkling little lights in a velvety black sky. Nature was his oasis, the place his body welcomed and craved. Zeidy was a sofer. I remember as a little girl how he once asked me to tell him what a certain letter in a mezuzah was, and recall feeling really confused as to why my wise, learned, and talented scribe of a grandfather was turning to little young me for advice. (Of course, I later learned that that is what a sofer is supposed to do if in doubt about a certain written letter.) One thing I learned from Zeidy is to be real – to see beneath the trappings of this world and find the essentials within. For example, Zeidy once laughed at how women spend so much time putting on makeup, commenting, “Efsher zee is tackeh shein?” (“Maybe she’s actually pretty, underneath all that makeup?”). He didn’t see a need for all these extra worldly “stuff.” He was also direct and no-nonsense. At one of our visits to their house, Bubby spent a long time giving us many brochos as we made our way out. With two feet practically out the threshold, she continued to shower us with her blessings. Zeidy, from his place at the table, called out to us, “Du kenst shoin gein – aber zulst visen, zee meint es mit an emes!” (“You can go already – but you should know, she [Bubby Sara] means it [all her blessings] with sincerity!). One quick goodbye was enough for him. He was direct like that, with no time or interest in extras. As with all areas of his life, Zeidy was scrupulous with his observance of mitzvos. He did things carefully. Minyan was very important to him – in his 80’s, he still managed to drive to shul. Although he had pain in his legs, that didn’t stop him from pushing past his limitations and challenges to do what’s right. May we all learn from Zeidy how to observe each mitzva with diligence and strength. May his neshama have an aliya and daven to Hashem to bring Moshiach NOW and bring an end to all suffering in this world.