Part I — (Much) Better Late(r) — Than Never

(Much) Better Late(r)– Than Never

INTRO

I want to share how I view my life. I hope my words will help both some who read this, as well as me, in my continued growth. Much of my life has been difficult and painful. Recent years have become very meaningful!

I’m going to structure my writing in multiple parts, to make it easier to read, omitting the names of others, who could potentially be hurt by what I might say.

I was born May 16, 1951 in Ann Arbor Michigan. My father emigrated from Berlin to Cincinnati in 1927, where his father had been recruited as the Chief Cataloger at the Hebrew Union College Library. His father, whose name I was given, owned a bank in Koenigsberg, Germany. My father died at age 46, of stomach cancer, Friday, November 13, 1964 — when I was 13 years old. He was successful as a mathematician at Purdue (where I primarily grew up), after failing to get tenure at The University of Michigan.

In contrast to the assimilated German Jewish royalty of my father’s family, my mother’s background was relatively poor Russian/Polish Jewish.

(Grand)-Papa Marx and Me — 1952

I grew up in a family with:

1. insecure attachment to my parents/adults,