-He taught me that music is the language of God. He never said that--I figured that out by his example. My very first memory is of him practicing every night on his guitar (he was a notable jazz guitarist around Baltimore, played with Zim Zimmerel, played in Truman's band in WWII, etc). I saw how music transformed him into a chubby buddha with that omniscent, happy look on his face. And it's obvious from the crowds he played for that music brings disparate groups of folks together digging on the same groove, looking at each other with those same knowing glances.

-He taught me how it's important to say you're sorry when you hurt people. And mean it--and not do the offending thing again.

-He taught me to appreciate humor of all types, as laughing is one of the funnest things you can do, and how it breaks down arbitrary societal mores that pretend to separate us from another. And it can teach us not to be so self-righteous or think we're any more important than anyone else. He taught me how to make impromptu jokes too.

-He taught me how to eat hot peppers, raw oysters, steamed crabs; drink beer and make a very dry martini (only let the gin bottle 'look' at the vermouth bottle, briefly!).

-He taught me that all people were cool, as we had his jazz musician friends of all races, genders, ethnic or religious groups, shapes and sizes play in our house and at our family parties. As a kid I used to See Sammy Ross, the little people actor, at our house, who was one of my Dad's friends. It was cool to have a grown-up who was my size. And it was cool to have all these diffent people around me as a kid--that taught me I'm no different from anybody.

-He taught me it's more important to do things than it is to talk about them.

-He taught me that your freedom extends the length of your arm. After that you're affecting other people's freedom.

-He taught me never to hold a grudge or stay mad. He and I would get into a typical alpha-male teenage/parent exchange (which happened a lot in the 1960's), yelling and screaming at each other, saying rotten things...and five minutes later we'd be laughing our butts off, tears rolling down our faces at something we saw on TV together.

-He taught me that worrying is a complete waste of your precious time here on Earth. When he had  quadruple by-pass surgery at age seventy-some, my Mom, brother and I were all afraid he wouldn't make it. He told us to stop bothering him so he could read the paper. (He was fine after the surgery).

-He taught me how to die honorably and with dignity and even a certain measure of 'cool.' He had terminal cancer and had a few weeks to live. He never stopped smiling through it even though he was in big pain. He never complained, he never said he got a bad deal or that he wanted more time.

All he said was that he loved us all very much.

He did pull me aside a week before he died to ask me to take care of my Mom because she'll need me to help her now.

And I was holding his hand when he passed.