Yesterday was your 5th Deathday. We all went to the cemetery, then to Cactus Cantina and then we wrapped up the day by lighting the Hanukkah candles - it was the last night - and a yarzheit candle for you.



I grabbed two photo albums on the way out the door which was a good thing. We all looked at pictures of you and everyone else while we were at the cemetery and at Cactus. It was a good way to get everyone to really focus on you.

I took a video of a lot of what we did all day but am having some trouble transferring it to the computer. Look for that soon.

I was thinking that we need to have an abbreviation for Hanukkah the way there is Xmas for Christmas. There are so many ways to spell Hanukkah it might be cool to be able to just write "H-kah" or something like that. We'll see if that takes off.

It came a few days early but I did start weeping uncontrollably the other day. Here is the "progression." I had a hard day and I was home alone doing some dishes waiting for Mom and your brothers. On XM's Radio Hanukkah, Rick Recht was playing. I guess my mind went to Minnesota when we used to listen to him and then all of a sudden, standing over the sink, I started to weep with my entire body. It didn't last all that long.

Here is a cool slideshow Mom made for the day. I had wanted to do this, but Mom beat me to it and did a great job.



I get bummed out at these commercials that are playing on TV for a hospital called St. Judes. They raise money for the hospital (a really good thing) by showing celebrities with kids with cancer. They only use kids with no hair. That's what sells, but it bums me out. It is just me.

Hey, I keep wanting to tell you that Mom is on a radio show every week. Here is the link to the shows.

http://www.washfm.com/pages/wafaudio.html

Your mom is destined to be a big star.

Hen, this is something I started writing a while ago.

I am writing to you high above the earth. I am on an airplane flying to Los Angeles. We are flying straight into the “season of sadness” which is October (your birthday) to December (your deathday). This is the time of year where feelings about you are intensified – which means in this case, they get stronger. Just the other day I was on the bus on my way home and I started to cry.

Here is what happened… I was listening to Bruce Springsteen and thinking about how Jack is going to go to his first rock concert. If you haven’t guessed, I am very excited for him. I quickly switched to thinking how this would have been your first real concert too. You went to see Lucinda Williams once, but you were in a car seat so that doesn’t really count.

In Mom’s eulogy she said you were the encore of a Springsteen show.

Then I clicked around on the iPod to find this band I like called Marah. Mom and I went to see them the other night in Virginia. I have a short attention span and switch between songs the way I switch channels on TV. They have a song called Crying on an Airplane. That made me think about all of the times that I have been on an airplane and started thinking about you and ended up crying. I don’t know if it is looking at the clouds or feeling just very alone, but I have these “Henry Moments” where I feel close to you and very sad at the same time.

Mom told me how she ended up crying the other day. I think she described to me the “progression.” Here is how it went. We were having everyone over for to eat on Sunday morning, more on that later, and Mom was thinking what to make. She thought about something that Beth (Oh Dear) cooks for brunches and that made her think about how you used to call her “Bethie.” That’s all it took.

A few days ago, opening up the computer made me sad. I looked at the photo on my desktop of Mom, Jack, Joe and me at the National’s game when the computer screen warmed up. We all look so happy and we are. But you are so missing.

Then the other night at dinner. It wasn’t that we were all so happy. It was just that you and your personality were missing. We were all sitting around the table and talking and I felt that you were not there. You were the perfect fit between Jack and Joe. You would’ve kept the peace. It’s like a three-legged dog. He gets around okay but you're very aware that something is missing.

And then there was last weekend. I did that 100 mile bike ride I have done the past couple of years. Steven broke his wrist so he couldn’t make it, but Jake’s dad, Richard came. We drove in the Defender to St. Michaels and met Mom, the guys and Nana and Papa. The weather was fantabulous. Here is a picture Mom took.



Driving around in the Defender without the top on has been a blast. It is not a very sensible car, but it is a very fun car. Thanks to the drought -- which means it isn't raining -- and how warm it has stayed, we have been able to drive around “topless” for a long time now. Mom and Jack and Joe love it, and that makes me very happy. Jack wants us to get a license plate that says, "Ha Beast," which would be Hebrew for "The Beast." I may do that.



There are no airbags so Jack and Joe are okay to sit in the front seat. I have taught them the whole concept of "Shotgun." If you want to sit in the passenger seat in front you need to call "Shotgun" when you are in sight of the truck. There is a lot of competition for that front seat, but the back is pretty cool. There is a middle seat, but there are also benches on the side and you get to sit facing in.

I bring this up a lot, but I am glad that Mark sat you in the front seat of the car when he took you out for pancakes.

I think I know why Mom is really into the truck. Here is a picture of the jeep that Mom always told us about. The one that they had at their farm in Virginia when she was growing up. It feels like we are repeating history.



And you have to remember this picture. It is in the living room. It is one of my favorites of Mom from growing up. Not sure I ever noticed the jeep behind her.



The next morning Richard and went to Salisbury for the bike ride, and Mom and the guys had a lazy day with Nana and Papa. The weather was beautiful. It has rained terribly the last two years, so this was especially nice.

Richard and I rode faster than I have before. He was great at pushing me. Sometimes you need to get pushed.



After the ride we drove back to Washington because it was Joe’s birthday. It was quite the perfect, busy - usual - weekend.

The more perfect it is the more I think of you. They are twins.

I have more that I have written and I will put that in another post.

I have a lot of catching up to do. I have pictures from Joe's birthday, a lot of baseball games and kickball. I will get them up soon.

Here is how we spent your birthday. I didn't cry all day. Strange.

First, we went out to the cemetery. Mom had a Pokemon coin that she left on your headstone. I am going to get some rocks custom engraved to leave behind on future visits. I have been thinking about this for a while and haven't found the right thing just yet. Maybe by deathday.



There were a lot of berries on the tree above your grave. I have never seen them before. I am pretty clueless.



Unfortunately, there is a new school being built right next to where you and Grandma are buried. It used to be trees and forest for as far as the eye could see and now this. We have had a good 5 years all to ourselves. Hopefully for you and for the kids at the school they'll plant a lot of tall trees between you.





We weren't in any particular rush, so Mom and I decided to explore the road that we go on to the cemetery. We took it in a totally different direction and it lead us through a lot of beautiful farm land. Too bad they couldn't build the school a little farther down the road.



The great thing about the road is that it dumped us out right where we wanted to go. The Olney Ale House. That is our post-cemetery destination. It is cozy and has a fireplace. It was a cold and smokey day, so this was just what we needed.



After lunch we went to JPDS to pick up your brothers. This is a piece of art that I found of Jack's hanging on the wall outside the gym. Mom went and checked out your plaque.





They are raising money for Henry's Garden. Guess who won the guessing of how many erasers are in the jar contest - Ari! Can you believe that. Amazing.





We then went out for dinner at your favorite restaurant, Cactus Cantina, with your buddies Ari, Simon and Jake.







You will note that we are still shopping at the Gap.

All of your DC cousins and aunts and uncles and Nana and Papa went out for your deathday last weekend. First we went to lunch at your favorite restaurant, Cactus Cantina, and then we all went to the cemetery. At lunch, Nana had brought with her all of the photos that she had of you that she thought Mom and I might not have seen before. That was great. Here are some of them.

















The cemetery was pretty tough. We all said some stuff. Mom talked about you and how many lives have been changed and saved since you died. I said a prayer that I like. Everyone walked over to visit other graves and I was left alone with you. I kissed your headstone and then I just knelt there and looked at your grave and sobbed and sobbed.

I went over and visited Grandma and you know something, I cried there, too. That was a first for me. I think I am just starting to really get sad about Grandma's dying. You were so sick and then you died and I just don't think I ever had time.

I miss her. It is tough not having a mom. It is tough not having you.

I just read the blog I kept when you were dying. It is late and the battery on the computer is running out. I wonder if I'll be able to go to sleep. I think your deathday is harder for me than your birthday. I wonder what that means. I wonder if that will change.

I wish I could cuddle with you one more time.

I miss you.

I love you.

Good night.

Jack was sooooo excited about the GameBoy. He leapt into my arms and gave me a full on, legs wrapped around hug.



It was awesome.

Tomorrow is your deathday. We are going to the cemetery. Jack has a good distraction in case he doesn't want to get too sad.

Mom and I talked tonight about what we might do tomorrow at the cemetery -- what we might say. A bunch of people are coming, all your cousins and Nana and Papa Sy. I might say something about your life and Mom will talk about how you have touched people since you died.

Joe knows about you and knows that you are dead. The other day when we were driving to school Joe asked me where we were. I said we on the way to school. That wasn't good enough. Joe said he wanted to know exactly where we were. I said that we were on the corner of 16th Street and Taylor Street in Northwest, Washignton, DC. He then started asking me about Aunt Tracey's dog, Taylor's, recent death. We talked about Taylor and then I figured I might ask him about your death, too.

Joe said he knew that when someone like you, or a dog like Taylor dies people cry. He also told me that when you die you lose your friends. I said that Taylor and you didn't lose your friends when you died. I explained that you just couldn't play with your friends anymore. To Joe, you are his brother who just isn't here. Whenever I ask him where you are, Joe says you are "home."

I once read that "Home is where you are loved."

Now when we are in the car Joe always wants to hear Dogs Out. That is his cute way of saying, Who Let the Dogs Out. Remember when I bought that for you and Jack in Minnesota. When we get to school it is always too early for Joe to go into his classroom so we play football downstairs in the Gan space.



I bought Jack and Joe footballs for Hannukah. I made sure they got outdoor things as well as indoors stuff like the GameBoy.