Happy Birthday, Dad!

Today is my father's birthday. When I was growing up we used to call him a young communist because his birthday fell on the anniversary of establishment of Komsomol, the Soviet youth organization. I thought my Dad was the coolest because he always took me on adventures and made up stories for me. When I turned 7, for my birthday he gave me a book of his poems and stories based on our adventures. He made it, including illustrating and binding it, with the help of his friends. This was one of the things I knew I was going to bring with me when I emigrated from the Soviet Union. I still look at it occasionally and can't wait to read it to Lili. Even if she doesn't understand Russian, I still want her to know that she has a cool grandfather. After Lili came along I felt closer to my Dad because he was my age when I was born. He taught me about jazz and classical music, about literature and film, about physics and physical fitness. But most importantly he taught me to be myself. I hope one day Lili will be able to say that her Dad is cool, too.