Dear Henry

We went to JPDS last night for "Back to School Night."

Mom and I went to listen to Jack's home room teacher and then we split up. I stayed to hear Jack's Hebrew teacher while Mom went downstairs to meet Joe's Hebrew teacher. A little later I came down and sat with Mom to listen to Mrs. Berliant talk about Joe's home room.

I must be strange because I like sitting in a semi circle in those tiny chairs.

So I am sitting there a few minutes and all of a sudden I start to cry. I realized it was because of Mrs. Berliant. She and all of your kindergarten classmates really loved you. You were so happy in her class.

When we left, Mom told me she had cried too but before I came down. She was remembering a lot of the same stuff and more.

Tonight going through old photos I found this picture of you and Mom.



You both look incredibly sweet.

When Mom was sitting listening to Mrs. Berliant, she remembered how you'd go and take a quick nap in your little corner of the main office and then run back to class. It was like you were taking a pit stop for energy to make it through the school day.

Mom reminded me of something that I totally did not pick up on. She said that one of the things that got her so sad was that when you died Jack was exactly the same age that Joe is now. Joe will be six in a little less than three weeks. Jack turned six about three weeks after your death-day.

Mom was thinking how Jack came back to Mrs. Berliant's class after Minnesota and you dying. I cannot imagine how tough that was. Jack seemed and was a lot older at six than Joe is now. All the stuff we went through as a family made him have to grow up a lot.

On a funny note, I told Mom how I had a flashback to Camp Tel Shalom while we were at Back to School Night.

The man who ran my camp when I was a kid is now at JPDS. His name is Marshall Green.

To get the parents to go to know the next session was about to start at Back to School Night, Marshall got on the intercom and urged everyone to move along. When I heard his voice booming out over the loudspeakers I felt like I was back at camp.

One of Joe's friend's fathers was at camp with me and he was there last night. We looked at each other and said, "Achshivu, achshivuna," which is what Marshall said on the PA at camp to get our attention whenever he made an announcement. That was 30 years ago but I remember it so clearly.

I may have already told you this, but I play Cat Steven's "Morning Has Broken," and The Beatles' "Here Comes the Sun" every morning to wake up Jack and Joe. That is what they used to play to wake us up at camp. I really have fond memories of hearing those songs playing so loud and clear across the West Virginia hills with the sun rising warm and strong.

Mom told me tonight that Joe finally wants a haircut. Jack and he have really long hair. It reminds me of how we looked in the '70s when I was growing up. We just had long hair then. It wasn't "intentional" or anything, like I think it may be today. A lot of the parents now want their kids' hair long for some reason -- so they look cool or maybe because the parents are remembering back 30 years. I figured that as long as Jack and Joe can see they can wear their hair however they want. And they do look cool.