This weekend is Yom Kippur and the end of summer.

I think Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur should be reversed. We should ask for forgiveness, atone for our sins and then have a happy holiday celebrating the New Year. Even with "It is written and then it is sealed," the happy then sad doesn't seem like the right order.

When I was going to High Holiday services growing up, we would always sit in the same place and the same people sat around us in their usual seats. There was no assigned seating. Either Papa Teddy or I would be ready first and then we'd drive separately and get there early and spread out over 3 seats if it was just us or 4 seats if Aunt Jen was in town. Tallis bags are good for saving seats.

Those seats were a few rows from the front to the left side of the bima - or the Churchill High School auditorium stage as I normally knew it.

We always sat next to Mr. Kahn, who lived across the street from us on Ivymount Terrace. His wife wasn't Jewish so he'd come all by himself. He was part of our family for those services.

Aunt Jen would sometimes come in to town and read Torah or Jonah Haftorah. I was always proud to see her up there in front of the whole congregation doing such a great job. She is now helping me with the portion I am going to read at Hannah's Bat Mitzvah.

I am pretty sure I told you about the one time that I had appendicitis on Yom Kippur. Everyone still came over for break the fast at our house even though we were at Suburban Hospital. The best thing was they were able to put me straight into surgery 'cause I didn't have anything in my stomach.

Grandma and I used to stay at shul for the entire day on Yom Kippur. We wouldn't leave. We both really enjoyed the discussion group that they would have between the musaf service and mincha. Not going home made the fast much easier.



I've been thinking a lot about Grandma and you this holiday. I miss you both so much. Today, as I was saying the Mourner's Kaddish during the Yizkor service, who should walk down the steps right next to where I was standing... Ari. That was something.

Your brothers aren't much for sitting around during services. Actually, they spend all their time running around the halls of the synagogue with their friends. I cannot wait for the day when they sit next to me and Mom and I can put my tallis over their shoulders or hold their hands. I loved sitting with my family at Har Shalom. Sitting with everyone makes you feel really close and connected. I miss that.

And I think I have also told you how my other favorite thing around now is crushing acorns. The High Holidays are one of the very few times that I wear shoes with hard soles and heels. The acorns of Cleveland Park don't stand a chance. When I was walking home after services today trying to stomp every acorn in my path, a guy said to me, "Still a kid, huh."

Here is a picture - from a satellite - of a oak tree that grew from an acorn I planted in our yard in Bethesda when I was Jack and Joe's age. I should drive by sometime and get a better photo to show you just how big it is. It is pretty massive.



Remember I told you about the bird that flew into our car last High Holidays. This is definitely a special time of year.

Okay, the weirdest thing happened on Yom Kippur. I dropped everyone off at Adas and then parked down Porter Street right on the edge of Rock Creek Park. When we were walking back down the street after services I explained to Jack that I really like that we go to synagogue in the city.

One of my favorite things to do for the High Holidays is to crush acorns. Shoes with a hard heel (which I never really wear the rest of the year) is my weapon of choice for all of the acorns that fall out of oak trees that line the streets here in DC. I love stomping those suckers.

When we got to the car I opened up the door and Jack said there was a bird in the car. I looked and sure enough there was a little bird with a yellow belly and grey feathers on his wings. I opened the other door and the sun roof so he'd fly out. Instead of flying out he flew from the back of the car straight into the inside of the windshield.



He then positioned himself on the dashboard and closed his eyes. Everyone thought he was sleeping. It was way too fast for me. I thought that he was pretending to be asleep so we'd leave him alone.

I aksed Jack what kind of bird he was and of course Jack told me exactly what kind of bird he was. A finch. I had no clue. Thank god for Jack.

I took an umbrella we had in the car and tried to nudge the finch out. He opened his eyes but had no interest in taking off. I softly prodded him a bit more but he wasn't budging. Finally, I snaked the umbrella under him and he had no choice but to stand on the umbrella. I brought him out of the car and he just stood there on the umbrella with no intention of flying away. I brought him close so everyone could check him out. He was really beautiful. There was no sign that he was hurt or that his wings were injured.

I gently stroked his feathers. Joe not-so-gently poked him. He stayed put.

I said that I was sure the bird was you. Mom said that was doubtful 'cause she is sure you are a praying mantis. I wanted to take him home since he didn't seem to want to be away from us. No-one thought that was a good idea. I always think that when we have an interesting or close call with nature you are somehow involved.

Finally I placed him up on a stone wall away from the road. He stood there for a second and then flew up into a tree. It was the strangest thing.

I was listening to the radio tonight and heard an interview with John Lennon's son, Sean. John was in the Beatles. You liked them. Sean said that he got into his car one day and when he turned the key the radio blared out, "Darling Sean." Those are the last two words of the song that his dad recorded called, "Beautiful Boy." His dad was killed in New York when Sean was young.

Sean said that he was having a bad day and when he heard those words from his father on the radio he was comforted. He said he didn't totally understand how the universe works, but it was a nice moment. That is how I felt about the bird.

Joe's birthday was the usual mayhem. We had all of his boy classmates over. He isn't too comfortable with girls. We went and played baseball at Stoddert and returned home for cake. It was interesting to see that most of the boys weren't all that familiar with baseball. When some of them hit the ball they started running for third base. I started with the wrong assumption that they were all crazy about the game just like Joe. One dad said it was the first time his son had ever gotten up to bat. That felt nice to hear.

Even though Joe probably would have stayed there all day, we moved the party inside after everyone got a chance to hit and ran around the bases - in the right direction. After the boys tore apart the basement we lit the candles and sang to Joe. Mom got Joe (what else) a baseball cake at Max's.

Notice how Joe and Mom are wearing matching National's jerseys. They both look pretty darn cute. Oh, and check out the baseball plates. Mom took care of everything.





We went to the Nationals/Mets game after the party. The Nationals lost 6 to 2. I wanted to get Joe's name up on the scoreboard. But it cost $100 for a Happy Birthday message. Can you believe that. Wow, that's a lot.

The best thing is when they did have the birthday messages on the scoreboard the song Happy Birthday played in the stadium. Joe sang along and he was sure they were playing it just for him. Nice.

Tonight is Kol Nidre and the start of Yom Kippur. I will remember to bring a picture of you for Yizkor. I like to look at your face during that service.

I was listening to the radio on Monday and they had a story about a young man, a soldier, Tyler Hall Brown, who was killed in the war in Iraq. Tyler's mom and brothers and friends talked about him. He sounded like a really great guy.

The last part of the story was Tyler's dad talking. He said, "He truly was the finest young man that I ever knew...," and when I heard that I thought it was nice of him to say -- and understood why he said it -- but I also worried about Tyler's two brothers and if they would think that their dad didn't think they were as great as Tyler.

But then Tyler's dad finished his thought with "...to the point I would look at Tyler and say 'I want to be just like my son.'"

I feel that way about you.

At the Yizkor memorial service on Yom Kippur this weekend, Mom and I said a prayer that says we will honor your memory by doing acts of charity. The Hope for Henry Foundation is going to have a fundraiser next month. We are going to invite everyone to go to Butlers Orchard and have a hayride and bonfire. It will be about a week after your birthday.

The money we are raising is going to help boys and girls and their families in the hospital. Georgetown asked us for computers for the clinic. I know Jack was always frustrated by the computers they have there because they didn't work too well. This will be a good thing to do.

I went to Georgetown yesterday morning and dropped off bandaids and toys for the treasure chest. It was good to see everyone. They said it is really busy there, which isn't a good thing. It means there are a lot of sick kids.

I found out this week that my cousin Bernie and my really good friend Sue are sick. I am worried about them. I don't think you ever knew Bernie, but he is my first cousin, like Michael, Rachel, Joshua, Hannah, Emma and Sam are to you.

I called them yesterday to talk to them. I feel pretty helpless, but at least I can talk to them. I hope that helps. I know you were good about that kinda thing. I am thinking about how much you wanted to help Simon after his father died.

Being like you is a good way to be.

Today is both Joe's second birthday and Yom Kippur. It was hard to sit in synagogue and ask for forgiveness. I felt like I shouldn't be the one saying I'm sorry.

I wore your kippah to shul. When Mom and I got married, we printed up kippot and on the inside it read, "A Blessing on Your Head, The Wedding of Laurie and Allen." Too bad you could not have been there. It was a great party. You would have had a blast.



Mom, Jack and I went to the kid's service upstairs. It was in the same room where you, Jack, Mom and I went last year. I remember so well how you volunteered to help lead the Shofar blowing part of the service. You gave the Shofar blower instructions, "Tekiah, Shevarim, Teruah, Tekiah, Tekiah Gadolah." You were so proud of yourself and we were so proud for you. It is an incredible memory for me. I will never forget you in your sports jacket and kippah -- totally the center of attention, loving it and doing a great job.



When Mom and I were sitting in the main sanctuary last night I wasn't thinking back to your funeral. I was thinking ahead to your Bar Mitzvah. I was thinking how proud Mommy and I would be watching you on the bimah.