Tuesday, April 1, 2014



You've been gone now for three weeks. We buried you on the 12th of March.

People were elbowing each other to get to talk at the funeral.  Mel came and he has been sick. Yaakov was there too. He had to cancel a host of doctor's appointments.  Both Mel and Gilda spoke.  Diane Schwartz too. Bobby and me of course.  So many wanted to speak to honor you that the Rabbi had almost no time to talk. He made some nice comments at the cemetery though.  Sprinkled soil from the Mount of Olives on the casket.  Then they lowered you into the ground and we took turns with the shovels.

Several times in the last few days I've wanted to tell you things.  Bobby and I got together this past weekend. Had a good time.  Felt like we should call and let you know we were together. We were in NY for the sweet sixteen games played at the Garden.  Spent some time observing drinking rituals of the Michigan State, Iowa State, and Wisconsin faithful.  In the morning we reviewed some correspondence about your death. Thank you for taking care of so much making it easy for Bobby and me.  No surprise with that.

Toward the end you used to say that you hoped you made a difference with your life.  We have received so many glowing letters from your friends, camp people, relatives, former teachers--you wouldn't need to "hope" about whether you made a difference.  Recurring comments about how special you were, accomplished, versatile, kind, sensitive, and how you made an impact on this one and that.  Very moving. The sympathy cards are comforting to read except they remind me that you are no longer here.

Bobby spoke beautifully. He mentioned the seders and how you would always sing that song about the rebellion in the Warsaw ghetto.  "We will never lose our courage in the fight"  He sang a verse like you used to.  I won't ever forget him saying that at the funeral or you singing it at the seders.

I referred to those lines from Les Mis about the stars that make me think of you.

"Stars...filling the darkness with order and light.
You are the sentinels. Silent and Sure.
Keeping watch in the night...
You know your place in the sky
You hold your course and your aim
and each in your season return and return and are always the same."

That is what you were for me from the time I was a little boy. You were a sentinel. Filled my darknesses with order and light, and kept watch in the night. You knew your place in the sky. You held your course and your aim. And you returned and returned and I always knew you would be there for me and be always the same.

You are around dad. In me and Bobby and Matt and Jack.

Still I miss you.

I'll be in touch.

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