" Moya Dusha" George Baranin 1915-2005 CONTINUED:

by Roy Tschudy
(Suffern NY)

Richards talents served him well in life and he went as far as he could ability wise. Like his Dad before him,Richard's passion ran deep, and when his skills as a player left him, as a snowy field yeilds to the warmth of a fine spring day, Rich still carried his love/passion onward. Why not a coach? A dedicated and fine coach he became, leading groups of immigrant kids,not unlike his Grandfather before him, onto fields of play. In the midst of this there was George, home and away games. George was always there for his son, his boy.In this sense love and passion became intertwined in the big man's life. Love for his son and passion for the game that meant so much to him...more than my words can ever note. And then there was, and always will be Lois. She was born to George and Shirley on December 5, 1955;eight years after her brother. Lois was a gift from God, no doubt. Many a tear and many a laugh was shared between the two, Father and Daughter. The term "Bonds Of Love" falters when trying to describe the relationship of a pair of hearts as these. My Lois would often say many times over, how fearless she was as a little one, often driving her Dad bonkers! Wheather it be a day excursion with the folks at a large outdoor pool, where Lois jumped off of a high diving board without the remotest idea of how to swim; or as a teenager putting on her makeup using the down stairs mailbox as a mirror against her Dads wishes. These two could argue and butt heads with the best of them, but as Lois would always say, "my father loved me so much... no matter what." Indeed he did, indeed he did. Lois could be a lass of five or six years, waiting with her Dad for the #28 bus, out in the bitter cold of winter. There was always Dad to open that big, long warm coat of his and gently guide his little "dusha" into the warmth and safety of his love. She could hurt herself climbing over a high fence to play inside a play ground or local park,who was there to take her to the Hospital and make sure she was well?Dad, but of course. When his little "dusha" had grown and went off to college, it was her Dad who would drive her to school to ensure her safe arrival. Pretty does not do justice to my beautiful wife, Lois. She is a wonderful lady who fills my heart with unmeasured joy. My Lois would have no problem when she was in her early teens and early twenties finding herself a date. George would say to her " look at these guys for cryin out loud ! One has hair like a fuzzy bear and the others I'm not nuts about either." Then he would often say," hey, I've got a boy for you, how about Roy? He's tall and handsome, comes froma nice home. you two would make a nice couple." Now I must admit that George and I agreed on some things, and not on others.However, on the issue of his "dusha", there is not an iota of difference on our feelings for her. After I mustered the courage to ask Lois out on a date,George took full credit for the relation that would follow. Lois grew up to be as fine a person as any who have walked the good Lord's earth . We dated, became engaged, and married on April 29, 1980. By the way , who was there to walk his little girl down the aisle?No one else but Dad. A little over a year later we were blessed with a baby girl,a sweet little angel who we named , Dawn. Now when Dawn was born I looked at her in the Hospital nursery and I could'nt help myself from saying " holy cow, it looks like she was in a brawl... and lost!"Dawn's tiny nose was positioned near her right side cheek,and her skin was a bright yellow. Thank goodness everything 'centerd out'the next day. Lois had a tough labor and she was really tired out. So, when I stated to Nana Ethel, Nana Shirley, and Grandpa that we let lois rest and just visit our new baby,all agreed. Until that is, we arrived at the Hospital and Gramps headed directly into his little "dusha's"room. Admittedly, I fumed at the time, but I was naive to think that he would'nt be there for Lois. Again. These two, Lois and George would always tease and joke with each other. One of the favorite exchanges between the two concerned driving. Grandpa would say "You had the best driving instructor, because it was I who taught you how to drive." Lois would shoot back with "Are you kidding me? if it was up to you , I would still be driving in the Orchard Beach parking lot!" Gramps would waste no time with a reply," you were'nt ready to go on the road, you can't be to careful."This story would be bantered about between the two of them countless times. George was one of those souls who had difficulty making a decision. Not that he did'nt make a decision, it just took some time to do so. I dare say that if Grandpa came across a deal for a brand new spanking car that sold for only $1,ooo bucks,he would say " let's keep looking, maybe we can find a better deal." It's easy to forget, but Grandpa was a child of the depression era, when if you had two nickles to rub together,you were in all probality better off than most. Some habits are harder to break than others,and some you can't break at all,when it came to a buck, george knew all to well the full meaning of it and never, ever forgot it either. Grandpa was blessed wiyh five grandkids, and to all his love was given. Richard's children have gown up to be fine young ladies who loved they're "Pa George." My Dawny and Grandpa became close and I mean really close. In my opinion , this bond can be attributed to one of the saddest events in our lives. Strange that it would seem to happen so,but we lost our Nana Shirley in the Spring of 1992.Cancer had beaten her down and stolen her away from us much to soon.It was then,at the funeral, when all of us were greieving, that Dawny took Grandpa by the hand and did her best to console him. She never left his side.not once. She stayed by him, gave him love, because that was what he needed most. She was a small, but steady presence that would remain with him for the remainder of his days. Dawn was the one,and the only one Grandchild that helped him through both the wake and the funeral. He never forgot this act of love,and as his way, always mentioned it. Dawn would say over the years " come on Grandpa,sit down by me, I'm going to give you a nice manicure, and polish too."She would do this with great affection and he in return with great satisfaction. " hey, look at this, that Dawny does some great job!" Dawny and Grandpa, a nice duo those two. When it came to Andrew,Grandpa did'nt know what to think at times. One thing he did know, and that was he loved him deeply. "What kind of music is he listening to?" Gramps would ask with a quizzical expression. Upon listening to Andrews preference in music, Grampa would reply," not to pleasant to the ears." Andrews quick wit and odd sense of humor always kept Grandpa in stitches. " He's very clever, very quick," he would state. Later, Grandpa would say " He's gonna be the Mayor of Suffern some day... just wait and see." Gramps came to enjoy Andrews ability to play the guitar even if the muic was not Sinatra. Andrew also played the Saxophone, not as frequently since his "passion" was the guitar " don't give up on the saxophone, that's how you get the girls., he would remark. This from a man who proudly stated. I only had one girl friend in my life, and I married her!" Towards the end , when Grandpa became weak and frail, Hospitalized and dependent on others , it was a great blow to him. During this time both my kids, Dawn and Andrew were always present for him. Many visits came, much love, caring, support and hope was displayed by them. Dawn always saying how much she loved him, caressing him ,putting lotion on his face, neck and hands; kissing and hugging him. This meant the world to him, this was repeated every time ,for no other reason than love. Andrew would not, could not,be kept away. When home from college, a few days or a week Andrew made a point to see Grandpa. The two would yak , as only a Grandfather And Grandson can do. A nice shave would be given ,much to Grandpas appreciation., this was much loved, a special touch , from a special young man. In closing, I know that I could say many, many things that have taken place over the years, but I just wanted to write fresh thoughts. To my darling wife, I know that your heart is broken, and you feel overwhelming sadness. Please know deep down that the love you had for you Dad and the love he shared with you,will never die. You were his heartbeat, his dear one...you were his maya dusha. You took care of him in a way that few ,if any, could. Day or night,work or not,you were always there for him. You see honey, it came full circle and the long winding road of life came to an end. Always remember that the one constant in your Dads life, love and family. For if one has no family, then he has nothing at all. He had Family, and that means he had it all! So this is not goodbye,nor farewell. We love to live and live to love, this will carry us through until we meet again on the other side. So for now my dear one, it's "Moya Dusha, Moya Dusha." Your Loving Husband, Roy

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