October 13th, 2025
The old man sat across from me in his apartment. His wife had gone for a long walk when I arrived. Maybe she needed some air, or maybe she just didn’t want to be part of our conversation. I can understand her wanting to be elsewhere. It wasn’t a terribly pleasant discussion, but perhaps it was a necessary one for us to have.
The elder and I were talking mostly about my grandson, Asher. The old guy, who is my father’s age, couldn’t understand Asher’s strange behavior in their home when we came to visit a couple weeks ago. The old man is a Ukrainian Jew. I know him from the synagogue, and we have been close friends for several years. He has had a hard life by any objective standard. He and his grandfather fled to Kazakhstan just after the Nazis invaded the Soviet Union. Both of his parents were officers in the Soviet Army during the war. The old man knows all about hunger and poverty. He knows about fear, having grown up during Stalin’s regime. He’s experienced raw antisemitism. He immigrated to the United States with his wife after the Soviet Union collapsed and attempted to start a new life here at the age of sixty-five. The man has been through hell.
Asher had behaved badly while we were visiting the old guy and his wife. The man and his wife love Asher dearly. They really do. The man had found a small model school bus to give to Asher as a gift. At first Asher wanted it, but then he got annoyed and frustrated. He refused the present. I told Asher that we would take it home with us. The little boy got angry and argued with me. He became more and more upset, to the point where I couldn’t control him. The man’s wife had prepared a lunch for us, and Asher saw nothing that he liked. Eventually, he ate a single slice of bread and then we left. I did not take the toy with us. I think at the end Asher gave the old guy a hug, but overall, the visit was painful for the elderly couple.
The old man talked about that visit with me. I would have preferred to forget the entire episode, but he didn’t want to do that. He asked me,
“Don’t you think you should teach Asher to be grateful and thank people for gifts?”
I apologized for the fact that Asher had been rude to the man. He went on,
“No, I don’t mean just to me. That is nothing. I mean in general; shouldn’t he learn to be polite?”
I told him, “Asher is a wonderful boy. He is a good kid.”
“Yes, yes, of course he is. But he must learn how thank a person.”
I thought to myself, “Yes, he should learn that.” Then I said, “We try to teach him that, but he has been through some terrible things already. He has been through a lot of changes, especially with the new school. He struggles to control his feelings.”
The old man asked me, “What feelings?”
I replied, “He’s scared.”
“But scared of what?”
“He’s lost people in his life already. It’s hard for him to be with strangers.”
The old man said, “But I am like his uncle. I am no stranger.”
The truth is that almost everyone is a stranger to Asher. He has me, my wife, and his mama. That’s it.
The old man softened his voice. He told me,
“My wife and I, we often talk about you and your family. We know it is hard for you.”
I nodded.
He said, “I think of you as a beacon to your family. I think I am using the right English word. You have to show the way.”
Do I show anybody the way? If I am a beacon, I often have a dim and flickering light. I try to figure things out, but I am in the dark.
The old man continued, “You have to keep things together for your family. You have to do this for Asher, for your wife, for his mama.”
I don’t want to be the one to keep it all together. I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I am strong enough. But if I don’t, then who will?
There was no more to say about Asher. We both stood up. He shook my hand and put his other hand on my shoulder. He said,
“We think of your family every day. You are always in our hearts. You understand?”
“Yes.”
“Tell the boy that his uncle will have another toy car for him the next time he comes.”
“Okay. I will.”
I haven’t told Asher yet. He needs time. So, do I.
Frank is Emptiness 