Father’s Day 2024—The Limitless Power of Love
With Father’s Day arriving this Sunday, I’ve been thinking about how to best honor my own father, Mendek Rubin—the gentle, loving man and brilliant inventor who is the inspiration behind this entire Quest for Eternal Sunshine platform of blog posts, free events and healing resources. I feel immensely grateful to have had a father relentlessly devoted to healing his trauma—someone who managed to break free from the unrelenting depression and fear he experienced for decades after the unfathomable terror, loss and pain of the Holocaust.
In our posthumous father-daughter collaboration, Quest for Eternal Sunshine—A Holocaust Survivor’s Journey from Darkness to Light, my father wrote, “Throughout the many decades I was striving to understand the human condition and live a happier life, deep down what I really wanted was to reconnect with a different reality deep inside me—a reality whose foundation was love. I searched for love as someone else might search for buried treasure, with everything I had in me, every day of my life. And I was surely rewarded.”
My father was eager to share the hard-earned insights he gained throughout his life because he wanted everyone to be able to access the love, joy and peace he’d finally discovered—the “eternal sunshine” that he believed was everyone’s birthright.
In order to heal, my father first had to face his past and allow himself to feel the tremendously painful emotions of grief, anger and shame that he’d repressed for so long. He wrote, “Avoidance and repression had become my second nature. It felt as if I was living in a house where I only had access to the top floor—a floor with only a few tiny windows that barely allowed a small amount of light and joy to shine in. The lower floors were completely off limits to me. I wasn’t sure exactly what went on down there, but I sensed it was the place where all of my fears originated, and I feared my fears more than anything else.”
An essential part of my father’s healing journey involved learning to embrace, love and soothe his wounded inner child. Even before the war, my dad’s childhood was difficult, in part because of his undiagnosed dyslexia, which resulted in his failing the sixth grade and not being able to finish public school. His father was a well-respected scholar, and my dad’s poor performance was a source of considerable shame and disappointment, especially because he was the first-born son.
Mendek (far left) as a child in Jaworzno, Poland, with sisters Bronia and Rutka, brother Tulek, Mother Ida, cousin Liba, sister Mila, and father Israel. All but Mendek and Bronia were killed in the Holocaust.
My father wrote, “When I finally understood that learning to love Little Mendek was a prerequisite to healing my pain, I stopped avoiding his gaze and looked at him with a new interest. I quickly grew to admire his curiosity, mechanical aptitude, and sense of wonder. I delighted in his ability to abandon himself unreservedly to life, love, and joy—a capacity that had lain dormant in me for many decades but had never been completely extinguished.”
My father promised his inner child that he would love him unconditionally and strive to be his best friend and strongest ally. He assured “Little Mendek” that he would never again reject, ignore, or feel ashamed of him in any way.
In his imagination, my dad began reaching out for his inner child’s hand. He would hold him close and comfort him. He assured “Little Mendek” that no matter what, he would always be accepted and cherished exactly as he was.
A major milestone in my father’s quest for eternal sunshine took place when he was around 60—the same age I am now—when he made one of the most pivotal decisions of his life: to always have faith in the limitless power of love.
My father wrote:
“One day, I heard myself repeating the sentence, I choose to believe. I choose to believe. I choose to believe. And I wondered, could it really be as simple as that? Could it really be that no matter how troubled the outer world appears to be, I have the power to decide that a loving universe will exist for me?
“All of a sudden, I was certain that the answer was yes! If I could genuinely trust that life would provide me with everything I needed for my peace and well-being with the same conviction I’d always believed in struggle and unhappiness, my life would be transformed.”
My father explained that faith in the omnipotent power of love did not come naturally to him, but because he understood that his thoughts, emotions, and actions were all determined by his beliefs, he decided to select his beliefs first and trust that true faith would follow.
To train his mind to open to new possibilities and access his deepest inner wisdom, my father created the following list of questions that he kept by his bedside and asked himself over and over again for many years:
Do I believe that I am surrounded by an intelligence and wisdom greater than my own?
Do I believe that I am surrounded by a love and goodness greater than my own?
In spite of what I see and hear, do I believe that a spark of the divine lives in all humans?
Do I believe that I am as important to the cosmos as the cosmos is to me?
Do I believe that only within myself lives the potential for my total satisfaction?
As my dad apprenticed himself to love, he became a powerful generator of it. Love and light radiated out of him like beams from the sun. His eyes twinkled with joy, and his appreciation for simply being alive was constant and profound.
Mendek with his grandchild, Jeff, circa 1994
Mendek with his grandchild, Marea, circa 1994
My father took pleasure in making his oatmeal every morning. He enjoyed his trips to the hardware store, cutting lumber, hammering nails. He relished walking on the beach, hearing the birds sing, witnessing the seasons change and the glory of blossoming flowers. His creativity delighted him. He took up painting and photography, and he never stopped inventing novel ways to accomplish all types of tasks more effectively and efficiently. My dad especially loved music, dancing, singing, telling jokes, and playing with his grandchildren.
Mendek and his wife, Edith, with their newborn grandchild, Nina, 2002
Now, when I think of my father, I feel his love shining brightly, confirming what he always said: “Fear and anger come and go. Only love is forever.”
There is something else he always said that is perfect to share on Father’s Day, or any day: “Now is a good time to be loving. There is never a good time to be unloving.”
