Dear Henry

We went to the funeral and the burial today. It seems like the same friends and family are just moving from funeral to funeral.

The funeral was at Tifereth Israel synagogue. I used to work there as a USY advisor before you were born. I'll explain what USY is later. Walking in to the synagogue today there was a box that was in the front lobby for people to give toys to children on the Hematology/Oncology floor at Children's Hospital. That got me appropriately sad. Oh yeah, we got a letter from Dr. Jonas, your heart surgeon from Boston Childrens Hospital. He is the new head of cardiology at Georgetown. That would have saved us a trip. Only 8 years late.

At the burial Mike was the first to shovel dirt on Ethan's grave. I could feel inside me exactly how I felt when I was shoveling dirt on you. I was angry and sad and strong all at the same time. I wanted to shovel all of the dirt onto you all by myself. I could see some of that in Mike. It made me cry. Henry, I feel so bad for him and for Beth. Big Michael was there. He said that people always say, "parents aren't supposed to bury their children." None of us believe that anymore.

Papa Sy said, "Funerals give me a headache." I'm with him on that one.

When I was at the cemetery, which is different from where you are buried, I was scouting out the good places to be buried. There were some beautiful trees. You know that the spaces where you are buried are called "plots." I asked Mom if for Jewish cemeteries it should be spelled "plotz." Plotz means to burst with emotion.

Beth just buried her mother last week in Minneapolis. Beth told us how either she or her mom had been married at the Calhoun Beach Club where we all lived when you were up there for your transplant. I couldn't believe that Beth had to bury her mom and her son in one week's time. That is unbearable.