Tuesday, September 1, 2020
Frank was my cousin, but more like a brother. After his mom passed away, he and his dad, my beloved uncle Jules, moved in with us. We were both just kids, so we grew up together. And we stayed close, even though I lived away from home in my high school years. We both enjoyed theater, so during a couple of summers, Frank and I created a children’s puppet theater in the family garage. Frank designed and created costumes and sets and helped write the scripts. We both operated the marionettes and played the characters in the plays we made up. Frank was clearly talented in all things artistic, which developed greatly during his college years. When I married, Frank was my best man. And nearly every year, on our anniversary, he loved joking about accompanying us on our honeymoon! Technically, this was true, as part of our honeymoon was a school trip we led to Greece, which Frank joined. After graduation, he taught high school arts for many years. His students loved him for his expertise, his warm sense of humor, his easy style, and his devotion to their development. Because, beyond just teaching Frank advised the year books, helped plan and decorate for proms and dances, and produce sets for school plays. We stayed close through all those years celebrating many birthdays, anniversaries and holidays over the years. So many happy memories, but among the best is how much we both loved snow. You might guess that all teachers love “snow days!” On some of them, Frank would call with the exclamation, “There’s no day like a snow day!” And that would trigger for both of us a memory from our youth. On winter nights, if there was even a hint that snow might fall, one of us would sneak out in the middle of the night to switch on the outdoor floodlights. Then we’d lie in bed and watch in wonder as the snow swirled in the night sky. We’d plan impossible things to fill the day, until we fell asleep exhausted by exhilaration. My wife and I and all of us who loved Frank are heartbroken at his passing. It’s a loss that will be hard to bear. Happy memories, though, will sustain us and in that we’re fortunate, for Frank gifted us all with enough of them to last a lifetime. Rest in peace, Frank. “We loved you to pieces!”
