Updated: Feb 25, 2021
I am grateful for all I have seen in the 56+ years which I call my life.
My eyes have seen some of the great wonders of the world: pyramids in Egypt and Mexico, towers-Twin and Eiffel, the plains of Africa and Mount Kilimanjaro. I have seen a child being born; I have seen lives saved.
And I have witnessed a life; beautifully lived.
My father, William Alan Lipton-Billy-passed away on June 15th after two weeks of hand-to-hand combat with the forces trying to call him home.
In the end it was peaceful which gives us all great comfort. But still, he is gone.
And so the tears flow.
In the summer of 1959, my father was driving his white convertible down Finmore Drive in White Plains, NY. Visiting his sister at house number 161, he drove east down the narrow residential street. Passing number 167 my father, barely 20 himself, came upon a 19-year-old girl walking with a boy on his bike.
My soon to be mother, and my (now 61-year old) cousin Paul.
What my mother and father talked about in those first few moments belongs to history. But the rest of their story belongs to us!
My mother walked away from their brief encounter not knowing: Her life’s path had just been altered! My father pulled a Tremont Paint business card from his pocket. Flipping it over, he grabbed a pen and wrote, “I just met the woman I am going to marry!”
My father was a man of his word!
Barbara Gersh, Bobbie to all except me and my sister, captured his attention at that first moment.
And she held it, to his last.
Of my father’s 81 years on this spinning rock, he spent 61 of them