G.M.K. 12/24/2016 — OR TWENTY-SIX YEARS LATER

Let’s begin here Pappy.

I’m 62 years of age now, only eleven years your junior when you left me and us.

I said at the time that you were the greatest man I ever knew or would know.

Not only has nothing changed my mind but it appears that my assessment of you as compared to others, was on the conservative side.

Because it hasn’t been — nor will it ever be to me — even close.

The attributes and things which made you you, I have tried to incorporate into my persona on a long-standing daily basis.

Due to genealogy I suppose, paramount among other things, it hasn’t been that hard to do.

I am myself, a God-blessed composite of you and Mom.

(Probably your Uncle Solly too).

And at the risk of being schmaltzy, I am bursting-my-buttons fucking proud of it.

I know, I know.

Resorting to the use of profane language is a by-product of a small mind and a limited vocabulary.

I know. Sorry. Sorry to you, to Mom and to Grandma.

That would be the 2–4 Chicklet-inducement musical instrument-teaching Grandma with whom you co-habitated at 5 Druce and not to Essie, your mother.

But sorry to her just in case too.

We’ll get to my musical prowess another time, okay?

(Just remember examining the manufacturer’s label stenciled on the underside of your auditorium seat, which is precisely where you found yourself shortly after I began to play the national anthem on my cornet in the fourth grade gala Runkle school band performance).

I recall pretty much everything from my charmed childhood and charmed it was.

You and Mom were the best parents. Really. I was very lucky to have you and to have Joe as an older brother born five years before me.

We had a terrific family and though I didn’t pay much attention to it at the time, a much envied one.

As I reflect on it, the keys to making the family what it was — aside from the foundation of unconditional love of course — were a focus on education, the emphasis on becoming well-rounded, and the development of personality and humor…laughter.

“We must laugh dear,” Mom used to say, pronouncing ‘laugh’ as ‘laahf.’

I can still hear her to this very day and she was right.

A good and apt tonic for you too when you became a little depressed, pessimistic or maybe realistic about whatever.

The point is that you both knew how tough a place the world could be at times and to spice it with a little laughter, kidding and joking always made it better or at least seem better.

We were a competitive bunch willing to take a backseat to nobody and I certainly had my work cut out for me following my older brother.

The fact that five years separated us was a great benefit to me because it meant that at first we couldn’t compete mano a mano; Joe was bigger, stronger and more accomplished and I was too young to keep up.

I viewed him as a role model — academically, athletically, socially — and was driven to be as good or even better.

You and Mom were adamant that he take care of his little brother and he did just that. Unfailingly.

Sure we had our share of spats and as we got older a mild and nuanced form of sibling rivalry unfolded, but it worked out beautifully.

I give him a lot of credit but it was you and Mom who successfully orchestrated the whole thing. You guys were good, believe it.

Joe and I were lucky — and still are, mind you — in countless ways and having the opportunity to work for and with you at the K-S Company is right at the top of the list.

This experience allowed us to see you at work in the world as opposed to just inside the house. Little changed with respect to your personality, the physical shift in environs notwithstanding.

You were tough but fair and caring.

The analogy of a hard candy with a soft inside never fit anyone better. You were sometimes a bit impatient and occasionally featured a short fuse which always resulted in a quick and heartfelt apology from you whether or not you deemed it necessary.

Speaking for myself, I come by this behavior honestly.

(And so does Joe were I to speak for him).

I am proud to be like you in this way and in others, no question. I am honored, truth be told. How could I not be? Everybody loved you and respected you. You earned it.

I was fortunate to have you present in my life on this earth until I was a grown and married man of 36.

When Sandler told us on the sly that your heart was held together by chicken wire we knew the score of course.

You succeeded in achieving your goal of outliving Puppy who passed away at 72; you had just made it to 73.

But you missed your only grandson, your namesake George, by fifteen days.

As I said at the time, if I have to go only 15 days without a George Kaplan in my life, I guess I win.

I won.

And by the way, I’m pretty sure you would have taken a shine to your third granddaughter, George’s sister Lily, too.

Not exactly goin’ out on a limb there Pops.

The beloved hometown team — yup, the Red Sox — won the World Series in 2004, 2007 and 2013 no doubt largely due to your rooting with your pals from up above.

Thanks for that and for everything GMK.

I love you and miss you more than even you could ever know.

[Editor’s Note: This piece was written by Mr. Kaplan in December 2016.]

ADDENDUM: The Sox won the Series in 2018 too, G. (I know you know).