Lessons from 94 Years

If you were a child in the 1970s, 1980s or even early 90s, there’s a good chance my Zayda (grandfather in Yiddish) had an impact on your life. His company, Nasta Industries, which he started with his friend Norman Spiegel, designed and manufactured toys. Even if you never played with HitStix or a GuardDog or SpinArt, or used a Cavity Fighter toothbrush, he definitely influenced any play products in the future. A child of the Great Depression, my Zayda grew up wearing cardboard for soles of his shoes and worked every day from when he was 9 years old until he retired at 62. His work ethic was only surpassed by his love of family, particularly his grandchildren. And when he sold Nasta, he started his second career, the one he was most proud of, as our “chauffeur” and care taker. It is with immeasurable sadness and unmatched gratitude for all he gave us, that I announce his passing last Tuesday at the age of 94. I share this here because his lessons shape who I am in life and business. I hope perhaps some of the learnings can, like the toys of Nasta, change other lives as well. 

Here is an excerpt from the eulogy I delivered that offers these learnings:

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First: Learn a skill and then be proud when you get really good. Don’t beat yourself up if you’re not the best. When you are, don’t be ashamed. He was the best at investing, especially his Celgene pick, and boy was he proud. He was also excellent at investing in his family, with his resources and time. My zayda taught me to golf, well. He wouldn’t even let me lose to a date at mini golf. My zayda taught me to play poker, using the words from one of his favorite songs by Kenny Rodgers, The Gambler to serve as a reminder. He taught me to play pool and fish. He taught me the impact of a good warm cranberry juice and the love it takes to make a good chocolate peanut butter milk shake.

Secondly, he taught me joy. To find it everywhere and from everyone and to spread it everywhere and to everyone – the waiter, the toll booth operator, the janitor, the doorman. Choose kindness. Deliver smiles. That a bad day (or months, like when you broke your hip, had a stroke and had your house flood in the middle of covid, resulting in you living in a hotel) or when we sat freezing at the last Eagles game at the Vet or when I gave away all your original Nasta toys as party favors and you miraculously didn’t kill me – can be a great story. 

Lastly, he taught me that when you’re in, be all in. In life and in business. Give everything with your heart. His tenacity is now in my DNA. I never once felt that my Zayda wasn’t all in for me. Whether it was watching him from the side at every tennis match or holding both my babies even though he didn’t hold babies. He was so proud that I decided to go out on my own business venture. And when I felt terrified, he reassured me. On my visit down to Florida, as I pondered what direction we should turn my company, and without many others who had personally experienced the challenge which I was now facing, I asked my Zayda, how did you know when to keep going? He said, “because I still had more to do.” And then I asked him when did he know to stop? And he said, “because I was tired.” 

Rest now, Zayda. Knowing you filled the world with such stories, such joy, millions of smiles and such opportunities for your family and friends. I promise you, Zay, to take care of everything you held dear.