"Zaidie" is the Yiddish word for grandfather. But, there are grandfathers and there are zaidies - they're two different concepts.
My zaidie, Gamliel "Leo" Brody, came to the USA right before Hitler invaded Poland. He never did learn English properly, but that didn't stop him from opening a little grocery store a few blocks away from the Capital Building in Washington, DC. He had a smile for everyone, and everyone loved him, especially his grandchildren.
Zaidie was a little guy, only 5'4". He was in the Polish Cavalry in World War I, and he could do all kinds of acrobatics on a bike. He was adept with bicycles because in the good days, before WWI, his family owned a bicycle factory. He'd do anything to make us smile, especially when we were down. After he suffered his first heart attack (he died from the second one, a year later), he saw that I was a bit jealous, because my next younger brother received a gorgeous new bike. He took the bike, went up to the top of the block, put it in motion, stood up on the bike seat, and road down Easecrest Drive in Silver Spring, standing on the seat with outspread arms like an eagle. People from all around ran outdoors to see the spectacle. We were yelling with glee, "Zaideeee, Zaideeee!" My grandmother heard the commotion and came running outside, frantically yelling in Yiddish, "Gamliel, vos teets du, dein hartz, dein hartz!", Gamliel, what are you doing, your heart, your heart! He didn't care - everybody was smiling and having a great time.
Our parents knew that they couldn't scold us in front of Zaidie. He was the best defense attorney in the world, for he only saw the good in people. Zaidie wasn't "religious" by the book, but he was the warmest human being you'd ever want to meet. Because of him, I wanted to be deeply Jewish. Because of him, I wanted to see the good in every human. Because of him, I wanted to be a "zaidie" too and not just a grandfather. I don't think anyone on earth has ever had such a profound and lasting effect on my life. He always told me as a child that my future was in Israel. He left this world when I was only 14.
I miss you, Zaidie.
My Zaidie's yahrtzeit is today, the 6th day of Av.
God bless his soul ! I won't forget his yartzheit in a hurry , Denise came to this world on the 6th Av.
Posted by: Dddome | Wednesday, 25 July 2012 at 01:36 AM
Very touching.
Wishing you my condolences.
Posted by: London Male | Wednesday, 25 July 2012 at 02:58 AM
Rav Brody,
Your Zaidy is getting the last laugh. He is shepn nachas from your ahavas yisroel and hard work to bring yidden closer to Torah.
May your Zaidy's memory inspire us.
Posted by: ExactLegal | Wednesday, 25 July 2012 at 01:45 PM
I too had a Zaide who had a profound impact on my life. I was fortunate to grow up in a multi-generational household and was therefore very close to him. My Zaide was not religious but he was an ardent Zionist expending much time and energy. He was even a gun smuggler during the War of Independence. I also miss him very much! Today, I am a Zaide to 4 beautiful grandchildren B'H who bring me much nachos. I didn't want to be a Grandpa - I want to have the kind of influence on them that my Zaide had on me; difference being, I also want to instill a Love of Torah!
May your Zaide and all Zaides memories be a Blessing in our lives!
Posted by: Dfolkmanrealtor | Friday, 27 July 2012 at 09:07 PM