My family and I just experienced a bummer of a milestone: my dad’s 10-year yahrzeit. Ugh.
After a stroke and some cardiac issues, my dad, Ron Fenster, lived a handicapped life for many years but managed to keep his sense of humor. Frankly, I never knew he had one until I was an adult because my teenage years didn’t produce a lot of laughs from the guy. You can’t be funny when you’re telling your kid she’s grounded.
He did, however, think it was hilarious when my own kids would act up and I’d put them in time out. Some people say grandkids are God’s reward for not killing your kids. My dad said, “Grandkids who misbehave are God’s revenge for their parents who misbehaved worse.”
Sweet guy.
He was the social work director at a local hospital, or as he called himself, “The director of thankless tasks.” When people asked what that job entailed, he would say, “I throw old ladies into nursing homes.”
Sweet guy.
My dad had some pretty clever ideas. He thought nursing homes could improve their customer service to residents by adding special touches, like having a wine steward serve the daily prune juice. He used to doodle and draw as a hobby and would create single cell comics, like a little frame drawing with a caption. He created a series called “Great Ideas That Never Quite Made It” featuring things like a drive-thru restaurant that served only liver and onions.
He loved avoiding chaos and conflict and preferred a quiet lifestyle. He would say, “Boredom is the only thing that excites me.”
My dad always thought I was funny and loved when I made fun of him. On his 75th birthday, I said, “Wow! You look great for 85!” He said, “Well I’m only 75.” I replied “Oh, well then you look like s**t.”
Sweet kid.
Even as a hospice patient, my dad would make jokes. We all know we’re going to die one day, but when you are a hospice patient you are acutely aware that the end is imminent. In a bold move, my father asked me to do stand-up comedy at his funeral, focusing specifically on the funniest things he ever said.
Of course, I would do anything he asked, but telling jokes at a funeral? The guy wanted me to put the “fun” in funeral. As a tribute to my father, here are some highlights that I’ve thought about a lot over the past decade.
Ron Fenster would make a terrible political adviser. During the Bill Clinton/Monica Lewinsky scandal, he thought it would have been smart if, when asked, “Did you sleep with that woman, Monica Lewinsky,” Clinton answered, “No, not one wink.”
Every year on Yom Kippur, we remember his famous words: “Since I’m diabetic, I can’t fast, so I atone by only eating foods I hate.”
“Today started off terrible. I only remembered to put in half my dentures, so I could eat only half my breakfast.”
One time when he was in the hospital, the nurse was doing the intake forms and asked whether he’d had a vasectomy. When he said yes, I was shocked because I never knew that. He said, “Oh don’t worry, it was years before you were born.” He also said he had really bad health insurance, so the doctor just had him jump over a barbed wire fence while naked.
“I’m so slow it takes me an hour and a half to watch ‘60 Minutes.’ ”
He had a habit of leaving clutter around. Once, my mom said to him, “Ron, move your crap off the table.” He replied, “Don’t call my s**t crap!”
I gave my dad the chance to approve all the jokes before the actual funeral. He loved them. He considered leaving people with a laugh to be a lovely parting gift he could give to his family and friends.
Sweet guy.
Weeks after he died, my mom found one of his single-cell doodles (at right), dated 1996 in the corner. That’s 18 years before he died. Chai. Coincidence?
