Dear Henry:

I have to tell you about the weather because it has rained for weeks and weeks without letting up. I am not exaggerating. There is a saying that April showers bring May flowers, but I think we need to say something like, April, May and June showers bring a whole lot of mosquitos. I am afraid we'll get "chowed" this summer. I do remember calling the city and asking that they spray our street for mosquitos to protect you from the West Nile Virus and they did it! yesterday the sun shined but today it is supposed to rain again. Yesterday was a day to ride in a convertible. I remember driving you and Jack around in Nana Pat's convertible Mustang. I gotta say that we were "stylin'." I know you and Jack really enjoyed it. So did I. I am so glad that you got to do that. When I was about your age I went for a ride in the back (it seemed like the trunk) of Pop Pop Teddy's cousin David's Corvette. I can still remember that so clearly; I got tossed around a lot. The Corvette was white. It must have been 1967 or 1968.

We went to school for Science Night last week. I was worried that I'd be really sad. I remember Science Night from last year really well. I remember all of us being there together getting our passports stamped at each classroom. We had a lot of fun together. I went into Mrs. Singer's classroom and there was nothing there that would let anyone know you were in that class. I was hoping that some of your artwork would be on the walls or a photo of you would be up with everyone else. But the photos were of field trips the class has taken since you died. I wan't prepared to find no evidence of you. There were these posters on the front window, though.




Jack, on the other hand, was very much in evidence all over his classroom. He drew excellent pictures of different birds and made a bird and birds nest out of playdough looking stuff. He is really smart and talented. Mrs. Kaye's class did a room that was all glow in the dark with planets and stars. Jack answered every question about the planets. He was so excited and I was so excited for him.

Do you want to know how special and wonderful your brother is? Earlier this week, all on his own, he went to visit Mrs. Singer in her classroom. He told her that first grade will be his last chance to be in the same class that you were in. He asked if he could be in her class. I'm blown away. See, he is being aggressive for something that is important. Way to go Jack!

Oh yeah, they have a yearbook from last year and there are photos of you in it. There is also a page in this year's with a photo of you. I'll put it on here.

I love you, Henry

Daddy

Dear Henry:



Look what you got big man. When we went to the bookstore Jack bought a bunch of books about birds -- he is really into birds right now. We also bought a new "Good Knight" book. It is called "Get Well, Good Knight."



In this book the knight finds his three little dragon friends suffering with really bad colds. The knight sets off to find a healing potion and visits a wizard. The wizard gives the knight really yucky soups that the dragons won't touch. The knight finally gets smart and goes to his own mom. She makes a really yummy soup that the knight takes back to the dragons. They slurp down the soup and immediately feel better. The moral of the story is that mom cures all. I have already read it a few times to Jack.

Someone very wise pointed out something to me. Jack gets scared when he gets boo-boos or needs to see the doctor because his parents aren't supermom and superdad. When you are growing up you think your parents are perfect and can fix anything that is wrong. I didn't realize that Grandma and Pop Pop Teddy were regular, normal people until I was more than 20 years old. Mom and I couldn't fix you. Now I understand why Jack gets so freaked out.

Mom was telling me that lately she feels like a failure. Strange thing is, so do I. I keep thinking back wondering why we weren't able to fix you, to keep you from dying. I wonder if we got too wrapped up in the quality of life stuff. I wonder if things would have worked out differently if I had taken you to St. Michaels and kept you in seclusion. Dr. Wagner said we needed to keep you away from people and harmful things for 9 months or so to get you better. Should I have forced you to wear your mask more. Was I not being a strong enough parent. I wonder about this all the time.

I got a package in the mail the other day and the return address was GE Medical Systems. I couldn't imagine what it was. It was a new power cord for the blood pressure machine that we bought for you. I should have moved faster on that. I got really freaked out in August when I thought that your convulsion was from high blood pressure. When you were being intubated by the ER team I was thinking that it happened from your high blood pressure and I wasn't watching you close enough. I should have ordered the hospital machine right away instead of screwing around with all of the over-the-counter units that didn't work. Sometimes I worry that I am not aggressive enough or persistent enough or vigilant enough.

Speaking of being aggressive (you know what that word means, right) I need to work harder on my relationship with Jack. Henry, when you get married (and boy am I sorry that I am not going to see you get married) the Rabbi or whoever always says, "You really have to work hard every day to make your marriage a success." I now know that you really have to work hard every day to make your relationship with your kid a success. You need to think very hard about why they are the way they are and appreciate that. You need to do special things and try hard to make them happy. I need to make sure Jack visits XM, that he visits the movie set in Baltimore and that we do some fun stuff together this summer. He is going to camp at the JCC in Rockville and he is going to a camp where he will build a rocket for a week and then shoot it off on Friday.

Jack is having his last day of school and moving up ceremony in about a week. That was a miserable day last year for Mom and me. We were really excited going in and then we saw you with all of your classmates. We never thought you looked sick or different when you were just with us. But when you were in a sea of kids who were well, we all of a sudden realized there was something very wrong.

Your friend from school, Rachel, is going through a tough time. I remember last year how you bought her some Barbie stuff to make her feel better 'cause she wasn't doing well. I wish I had fully understood how extraordinary that was. I just thought it was sweet, but I remember not being too excited about another trip to the toy store. Now I know it isn't normal for a 6 year old boy to want to go out and buy a friend something special to lift her spirits. I appreciate and love how your compassion was beyond your years.

Henry, your imperfections died with you. I cannot even remember any flaws. Did you ever throw a tantrum. I know you were two at some point but I don't remember you being "terrible."

There are these commercials on TV for Children's Hospital with a kid who squirts chocolate syrup all over the couch. The writing on the screen says something like "Some things are okay when your kid is recovering from heart surgery." I always thought that we needed to treat you like any other kid and not let you get away with things just because you were sick. I felt that you were going to be around for the long run and we needed to make sure you were a good person, not a spoiled brat. Even though everyone showered you with "stuff" you were the farthest thing from spoiled.

I think that we were spoiled by having you in our life.

Love,

Dad


Dear Henry:

Tomorrow marks 6 months since you died. I want to say a bad word right now, but I shouldn't. I have a lot to talk about with you. I'll get it up soon.

I love you.

Dad

Dear Henry:

I lost a whole day of letters I wrote to you on Sunday. I am trying to fix this so it will be easier and faster for people to read. I'll try to recreate what I wrote.

The important news is that we saw Suzanne on Sunday and she told Mom to come around the clinic on Friday to drop off the action figures. Mom, Linda, Jack and Ari will do it. Mom will take pictures.

Love you,

Dad

Dear Henry:

Yesterday we went to get Joe some new shoes. He is a whole size bigger. He was really cute with the big dog at Jeannie's Shoes. Joe got down on the floor and kissed the doggy right on the nose. We got him some sandals for the summer. You always had a lot of different shoes and sandals - just like Mommy. Remember this thing. It is one of those things that is a part of growing up.



Jack and Mom really liked Finding Nemo. The movie is about a father looking for his son. Maybe it was better that I didn't take Jack. Do you remember when we went to see E.T. at the Uptown. I cried through that entire movie. Good thing it was dark. You and Jack didn't see. I think you said, "that was the best movie, ever," when the lights came on.

The people who moved in next door are actors. They perform in plays here in Washington. Maybe we'll go see them. Beauty and Beast is playing at the National Theatre. One of the best times I ever had was watching you watch the Beauty and the Beast production at Disney World. A nice man invited me and Jack to come watch him make a movie about firemen in Baltimore. I need to do that. I think it will be really interesting.

I think we are going to pick berries today at Butler's Orchard.

More later. I love you so much. Weekends aren't the same without you.

Dad

Dear Henry:

Emma had a sleepover. She is building towers with blocks for Joe to knock down. Emma just said that Joe looks like you when he smiles and he laughs.

Love,

Dad

Dear Henry:

Mom and Jack are at Finding Nemo, which is a new Disney/Pixar movie, like Toy Story and Monsters, Inc. It should be good. Without a doubt this is a movie that you would be going to see.The best part for me of taking you to the movies was hearing you exclaim, "that was the best movie, ever," at the end of whatever we saw. Three thumbs up, right.

Joe is sleeping and I just finished picking up. I want to take him for a walk but it is back to looking like rain. Hopefully the last day of May will be the last day of rain. It is soggy.

I totally forgot to tell you about this dream I had the other night. It was definitely a dream and not a nightmare. You and I were playing. I think we were at a playground or something. I do remember that I knew it was the last time we were ever going to get to play together. Sure, knowing that was pretty rough, but I was fine with it because I was able to dream about us having fun and not about you being in the hospital or anything.

I have a bunch of stuff to scan and show you. The letter I put on yesterday was very sweet. I only wish a lot of the people in Minnesota could have known you when you were feeling good. The people at the clinic in Georgetown saw you when you were feeling okay. I asked Mom if we needed to bring down more band-aids for Henry's Toolbox, and she said they are well stocked.

Let me go see if Joe is ready to get up and play. he was a maniac this morning. I know that he scares Mom a lot. She is very afraid that he will hurt himself. I think 70% of her fear is normal Mom stuff, and 30% is added on because of what happened to you. I am sorry she has to live with that. I am the same as I was with you - thought you'd be okay, think Joe is going to be fine. That might just be a Mommy and Daddy see the world differently kinda thing. Of course, Mom is usually right. I just wish she hadn't been in your case. Hey, there is some more fatherly advice. Listen to your Mom, or your wife. They are usually going to be right.

I love you.

Dad

Dear henry:

I came across this picture the other day when I was looking for something on my computer. How could you have died just 2 weeks or so after you were looking so good and sleeping so peacefully? Your cheeks have good color. I bet your lips were red from a popsicle.



Doesn't make sense.

Hugs and kisses,

Dad

p.s. It is almost June and you know what happens in June... Harry Potter. I cannot wait to come and read to you. Today is the first sunny morning in more than a month. I hope that June is as sunny as May was rainy so I can sit and read to you as much as possible. God, I love you.

Dear Henry:

This is the box that Ari put in the office at school to collect super heroes and action figures for kids at the hospital. It is pretty full. Mom put a lot in earlier this week.



There will be a lot of happy kids soon at Georgetown. Smiles are very important. That is our mission.

I love you,

Dad

Dear Henry:

I took Jack to school this morning because Mom is traveling for work for a few days. We were listening to XM Kids when Circle of Life from The Lion King came on the radio. Hearing the song made me remember something Mom told me the other day. When Jack met those folks in St. Michaels and insisted that Mom tell them about you, the man put his hand on Jack's shoulder and said, "It'll be okay. You see, I have a sister who died. It's just the circle of life." I looked back at Jack and could see that he was remembering this too. I asked him if he thought you were like King Mufasa in the movie, always with us looking down from the stars. We were both pretty close to crying. I reached back and held Jack's hand and listened to the song with him.

Hey, do you remember how I always like to say, "You deliberately disobeyed me" from the movie. The Lion King is finally coming out on DVD. I am sorry it didn't come out while you were alive so we could have sung the songs and quoted lines together while watching on your portable DVD player.

I love you and miss you King Henry.

Hakuna Matata,

Dad

Dear Henry:

Here are some of the treasures I unearthed while cleaning out the basement. This is the invitation that went out for your farewell party. Remember how everyone came to say goodbye when we went to Minnesota for your transplant.





This is from that fundraising concert that we had a couple of years ago. You went up on stage and had so much fun that night.



Hey, look what I found, a squished penny from Sea World.



I'm done and Mom and the guys are back. Gotta go, for now.

Love ya,

Dad

Dear Henry:

I heard a Bruce Springsteen song tonight that I am not too familiar with from his newest album. It is called, You're Missing. Here are some of the words -

But you're missing, when I shut out the lights
You're missing, when I close my eyes
You're missing, when I see the sun rise
You're missing

Children are asking if it's alright
Will you be in our arms tonight?

Morning is morning, the evening falls I got
Too much room in my bed, too many phone calls
How's everything, everything?
Everything, everything
You're missing, you're missing

I miss you,

Dad

Dear Henry:

Cleaning up the basement is hard but rewarding. So far I have found $14, my sunglasses that I though I lost last autumn and a ton of photos and memories of you.





I love you.

Dad

Dear Henry:

I keep writing all of these notes to myself to remember to tell you stuff. I gathered a bunch up and will tell you what I was thinking. I am not sure if I've already gone over some of this, but here goes.

I called our phone the other day and no-one was home. I got our message. I think you recorded some of our better messages in the past. Well this one said,

Henry, Jack, Joe, Laurie and Allen aren't here right now, so please leave a message.

I was like, huh? Did I hear that right. So I called back. I have to be honest with you, I was a mix of confused and hopeful. Sure enough, when I listened very closely the second time the message said

Henry, Jack, Joe, Laurie and Allen aren't here right now, so please leave a message.

Way to go Mom. I guess you have a permanent outgoing message that you aren't home. These are the messages I am leaving you. I hope you can retrieve them. Instead of "Dear Henry" maybe I should just write, "Beep."



Wanna know something funny. We changed our phone company and I don't know how to get our messages. Mom does, but I don't know the phone number to call. I should get it from Mom. I am not very good about picking up the phone when it is ringing. I rarely pick it up. I think there are a lot of reasons. I think the first one is I don't neccessarily want to tell anyone how I am doing. A lot of people say, "How are you," as a way of being polite. I don't think they want me to be honest and tell them how I really am. But that might not be the case. Some people might really want to know. Maybe I just can't handle telling 'em the truth. There is this really good movie where they say, "You can't handle the truth." I don't know who can't handle the truth, me or the person calling.

The second reason I am not so hot for talking on the phone is that I have had some pretty bad phone calls that keep ringing in my ears. Two that are always in my head are (1) the time Mom called me in August when I was picking up Pop Pop Teddy at the airport to tell me she thought you were dead and (2) the call in December in Minnesota when Nana called me and said Mom called and I needed to get over to the hospital right away 'cause you were in trouble. Those calls sucked. Grandma didn't like it when I used that word, oops. I don't like the phone. Oh yeah, I thought of one last reason. I had to call places, like airlines and hotels and explain that we needed something, like a special rate or flight, and I had to say the words, "because my son is very sick," or "my son is dying." That was never easy.

I feel more comfortable writing than talking. I think much of it has to do with the fact that it's easier to write about tough things. You can't get too choked up on the computer. I used to think I was your personal Make a Wish Foundation, and would blast out letters and emails to people asking them to do nice things for you. I used to drop what I call the "H Bomb." The "H Bomb" was telling them what you've been through and that there was a possibility you'd die. How could anyone say no to the "H Bomb," to you. I couldn't do that on the phone or in person and not cry. Writing is safe. That is why I do this. I read a quote from a book that says, "I write as a constant exercise in longing."

You loved the phone. You worked it like a pro -- the mad dialer calling us whenever we went out. I gotta be more like you.

You'll be happy to know that Jack is very good about making sure you are still included in things. Mom said that she and Jack met some people today. Jack made sure Mom told them that he has another brother, Henry. He's a good brother, isn't he.

Mom and Jack and Joe are in St. Michaels. It is a long weekend. I am stuck at home cleaning out the back half of the basement. We are going to "finish" it and make it into another bedroom. I bet you would have wanted that room for yourself. I know you. It'll be cool when it is done. I wish I was with everyone else, though. I'm sad and lonely. I am listening to XM radio. We are having a special, 66 straight hours of Bruce Springsteen. One of the things that I want to start writing about are the things that I would have liked for you to have tried and liked as you got older. Stuff I enjoy that I hope you'd enjoy too. There is a Bruce Springsteen song, called Bobby Jean, where he sings about his friend,

We liked the same music,
We liked the same bands,
We liked the same clothes

* * *
Now we went walking in the rain talking about
the pain that from the world we hid
Now there ain't nobody, nowhere nohow gonna
ever understand me the way you did

I think you and I were a lot alike. I have a feeling you would have liked Bruce Springsteen. Wow, this is a cool coincidence. The Devil with A Blue Dress Medley is playing right now as I write this. For me, the 4 minutes and 35 seconds of that song is simply the greatest music ever recorded. Sheer ecstasy (that means great joy). You go on a roller coaster ride and get whipped around and go up and up and rocket down and go up again. Aunt Jen bought the album (No Nukes) when we were in high school. She liked it for Jackson Browne, but I loved Bruce Springsteen. I played it over and over. Now I always play it when I am feeling good or when I am sagging and need a boost. I wish I could have watched you dance to it like you did with Out of Habit and your other favorites. We are going up to New Jersey to see Bruce Springsteen play later this summer. In her eulogy, Mommy said you were the encore at a Springsteen show. We are going to be the happiest sad people ever.

Speaking of sad, a few weeks ago I was reading one of Lisa's columns in the newspaper about Take Your Kids to Work Day. I mentioned it to Mom and she told me that she was extremely sad when the reminder for that special day went out at her office. She told me that you couldn't wait to be 7 years old so you could go to Mommy's work with her. I didn't know that. There are days of the year now, like Mother's Day and your birthday and the day you died, when I know I need to give Mommy extra hugs. I need to add Take Your Kids to Work Day. I know you would have wanted to go to Mom's office, but my office is really neat, too. It looks like Star Wars and Star Trek. There are a lot of lights and things, and you can be on the radio. I am going to bring Jack in so he can be on the XM Kids channel. I think they know him because he calls in all the time.

Here is something I have been meaning to tell you. The other day Michael came over to play with Jack. Michael loves Jack like he loves you. Michael says it helps him to play with Jack when he is thinking about you. I think this is kinda funny; Michael says "sweet" about everything. Everything. No matter what I say, he says, "Oh, that's sweet." I have a feeling that you'd be saying "sweet," too. Michael is totally cool.

Joe update. He no longer wants anything to do with the Wiggles. He is all grown up. Now all he wants to do is watch animal videos. He watches all of the National Geographic "Spin" movies that you and Jack loved. He is just like Jack in how much he loves animals. He is at the point where we are working on all of the animal sounds, remember "Baa, like a sheep, Moo, like a cow, Oink, like a pig, Oooo, Oooo, like a monkey. What is the difference between apes and monkeys. Right, monkeys have tails and apes don't.

Hey, I love you, you crazy monkey.

Ooooo, ooooo

Dad

Dear Henry:

Here are 2 pictures that I took of Mom and Joe at Emma's party. It was a lot of fun. We went hiking. You were missed. Here are pictures. The one with Mom and Joe is from a place along Rock Creek called "Milkhouse Ford." We passed this whenever we drove to school. I think it is really beautiful. I also really like the name.





Jack is thinking about you a lot. He told Mommy tonight that he misses you but he finds it hard to explain exactly how he feels. Jack wants to have a birthday party for you every year. He was very particular about having a cake but no candles because you wouldn't be able to blow them out. Mom suggested that maybe Jack blow out some candles. Mom left it with Jack that he can plan something and Mommy and I will make it happen just like he wants. This is all very hard on Jack. Mommy and I can say to each other and to friends exactly how we feel, but I think Jack has trouble finding the right words. We try to help him. I asked him if he wants to write a letter to you but he didn't jump on it. I'll ask again.

I love you big fella. I wish Jack was able to talk this through with you. He misses his brother and his close buddy.

Kisses.

Dad

Dear Henry:

Jack and I read about this place in the newspaper this morning. Do you remember how we squished the pennies in the hotel at Disney World when we went to the character breakfasts. We also squished pennies at Sea World.

This Squished Penny Museum is in someone's rowhouse here in Washington. We should take Jack. You would have like it 'cause you can squish pennies there.

Squished Penny Museum | Home

I'm still in my pajamas. I miss weekend mornings with you just sitting around watching cartoons.

Love you,

Dad

Dear Henry:

This is a photo of you on the beach in Portugal. This was taken 5 summers ago when we went to Spain for Bill and Cristina's wedding. You always made people laugh.



Bill and Cristina brought the picture over last night. They came over to celebrate Mommy's and my 10th anniversary of being married. I feel lucky that for 7 of those years we got to be with you.

Love, tu padre,

Me

Dear Henry:

This is the way the new Harry Potter book will look when it comes out in England. It is different from the cover that I posted earlier of the book coming out in the United States. I thought you'd like to see it. I really look forward to reading it to you.



We spent so much time with the people last night filming a story about you and Molly and Dr. Wagner and Dr. Hughes and Dr. Rosenwaks for German television. When they were with Molly she said she really misses you.

I love you.

Dad

Dear Henry:

Mom and I just spent 6 hours with some people doing a movie for German television. They were filming us talking about you. We spent some time showing them pictures. Here is one that Mom showed me that is really good. We were all doing well at this point, weren't we. It was the summer before last.



I am glad that people in Germany will love you now. I love you.

Dad

Dear Henry:

I got smart. I enlisted the help of our champion reader to help me get Joe ready for bed.



This is a great book, I Like it When.



I like it when Jack and you and Joe and I would wrestle on our bed. I had to be really careful that you and Joe didn't get hurt. It was "gentle" wrestling, which is tickling, I guess.

Who do I love? You, Henry bo Benry.

Love,

Dad

Dear Henry:

I was a little like Jack this morning. I was scared to go to the doctor. But for a different reason. I went to see one of my doctors and I was pretty sure didn't know you had died. I was right. He said that he didn't expect to hear that you died when he asked me how you were. I told him it was okay -- I didn't expect you to die. Hey, I have an ear infection. I guess you can never be too old.

This morning was really nice. I kept picturing you in our bed greeting me and Mom coming home from somewhere at night. You'd say, "Hi Ma-ma and Dad-da!" You were a mischieveous imp sometimes, which is another way of saying you were darn cute.

I love you my little big man.

Da-da!

Dear Henry:

I came home from work at a "reasonable" hour tonight (that means before Joe has gone to bed) and as I was driving up Calvert Street I started to cry. It kinda came from nowhere. I didn't understand what I was feeling and so I thought that maybe I was remembering all of the times we walked up the street together to go get ice cream, or rode your bike or whatever. I parked the car on the street and walked in and Mom was reading to Jack and Joe on the couch. Mom got everyone to say, "Hi Daddy." It was really sweet. Just at that moment, though, I realized why I had become so sad. It was all very backwards. I cried, then I walked into the house and you were not there. I mean it was so obvious that you were missing. I was excited to see everyone but at the same time sad not to see you. There are four where there needs to be five.



We spent the rest of the evening wrestling. Joe isn't really much of a wrestler. I don't know if that will change as he gets older I hope it does. Jack misses his wrestling buddy. When we were at the cemetery Jack walked over alone to your grave and had a private conversation with you. I hope it was good. He misses you so much. Yesterday he was on the verge of tears a lot of the day after our visit. I have so many tears inside of me that I need to get out. I keep having "small" cries, but I feel like I need to weep. I bet if I read back through this and the other site my tears will all come out.

You know what I miss. I miss finding you in our bed all of the time. Whenever Mom and I went out, you'd just fall asleep in our bed -- my side was your side.

Big sigh.

I'll talk to you later. Maybe I can get Jack to write a letter to you on here.

LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!

Daddio

p.s. Did that picture look funny? It's upside down! Fooled ya. I bet I didn't, though. You're so smart.

Dear Henry:

Do you remember how I used to call you Henry Strongin Goldfish and Jack, Jack Strongin Goldfish.

We went to the cemetery and it was a nice visit. There is a kid right near you. His grave is the bottom picture.



He was born one year after you. I guess if you use Mom's math he is one year younger than you. It is nice that you are both so close to each other. It is pretty sad, too. I wonder why he died so young. I like the wolf on his headstone. Mom and I think that your birthday would be a good time for the unveiling. I think I explained that whole "unveiling" thing to you already.

There was a funeral right next to Grandma's grave. I walked over and quietly cleaned off her headstone. Someone recognized me and said hello. It is a small world.

The cool thing is that right now I am out on the front porch writing to you. Mom and Jack and Joe went to go pick up some of the pictures we took lately. I am talking to Aunt Jen. I called to wish her a happy Mother's Day. A guy just walked by with a huge, beautiful parrot on his shoulder. I wish Mom and Jack and Joe were here to see it. Bill just came out to chat. He is looking kind of old, which I guess is okay since he is in his 90's. Bill is telling me that he is still very active in his alumni association. He is president of the Naval Academy, class of 1936.

We're sitting talking like a bunch of old men. Who isn't mowing their lawn and that sort of thing. You and I had good "grown up" chats. I liked that. You were my friend.

I'll finish tomorrow. Lot's more to tell you about coming to the cemetery.

Love,

Dad

p.s. Aunt Abby's surgery went well. She came home from the hospital today. She is doing okay.

Dear Henry:

It is Mother's Day. We are coming to see you. I've been worried about how Mom would be today. So far so good. I got Mom a framed cartoon that she really has loved for a year. It was in a magazine in May last year. The magazine where Jeffrey works. Jeffrey won an award for writing and I think we are going to their house tonight to help celebrate. Next Friday we are going out with Bill and Cristina to celebrate our anniversary. I am not much into seeing people right now.



Oh, and all of us got Mom a new camera. When we were on vacation I busted Mom's camera. Papa Sy gave Mom her camera when she graduated from college. I was really sorry I broke it. When we were on vacation Mom and I saw a Cormoran on the beach. I ran to get the camera from our room to take a picture of the bird for Jack. When I ran back out from our room I misjudged the steps and fell and the camera went flying. I don't think you can ever have enough cameras. I wish we had photographed and/or videotaped every minute of your life. The good and the bad.

More later today after we see you.

Love,

Dad

Dear Henry:

Mom and Jack looked up World Records on the Internet tonight. When I was a kid I used to read the Guinness Book of World Records over and over again. You would have loved it. You get to see the world's heaviest people and the tallest and the shortest. They have a record for the longest fingernails. I still don't understand how the people with those long nails can wipe their tushies after they poop. Maybe someone else does it for them like I used to do for you.

Something else that I used to do for you was scratch your back. I was thinking about that the other day because I asked Mom to scratch my back. I never do that and all of a sudden I heard myself sounding exactly like you, "higher, lower, other side, further, higher." It was so weird because no matter how much I scratched I could never really hit the right spot for you. We did that so much because your skin was always so itchy.

My friend's wife is going to have her transplant on June 5. They are leaving tomorrow. Henry, I am terrified for them. I am more scared for them now than I was ever scared for you. She is going to make it fine, but I think I am super-worried because I know what can go wrong. I want to go over and see them before they leave and give them one of our little Batman things that say "Believe" on it. Mom carried that with her everywhere and I know you wore it on your neck. You loved necklaces. Michael always wears groovy necklaces and we got Jack a shark's tooth necklace when we were on vacation. I'll let you know how my friend's wife is doing. Her name is Mary Beth.

I still have a lot to tell you that I wrote down on little notes or I have in my head. Maybe this weekend I'll get it all out. One thing I was thinking of doing is coming to the cemetery and writing to you there. I'd like to do that. I should make an appointment to talk to the "headstone guy" to see if we can do something close to what I put on here.

I love you little man.

Dad

Dear Henry:

I don't know if I sent this one to you yet. It is a poem by Simon. It is about his Dad and you. It sounds so grown up that I can hardly believe you guys are the same age. Mom says that Simon always had a good vocabulary.

There Is a Place
There is a place, so very far away, over the
treetops, past the seven seas, even over the
rainbow. And into deep eternity. Over the
world's highest mountains, and in the soul
and the human mind, no one knows this place.

This place is better than $9857; even better
than a vacation. Will there be the light of
night at this place? Everyone is immortal here.

So this place you call wonderful, you must
take me there. The crystal clear water, the
great rain forest and the beautiful pyramids
make me shiver with glory. You must have a
huge imagination to see this place!

At this place you can lie in a hammock all
day long, looking at the beautiful view of
the sky. You can lie on giant flowers and
drink the nectar. One hour more than a day
is the time you can stay, so appreciate the beauty
and the sun of yin and yang.

Simon Thomas Imbot

Copyright ©2003 Simon Thomas Imbot

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[a.] Chevy Chase, MD [title] "There is a Place" [pers.] My dad died when I was almost 5. Now I am 7, I've lost 3 teeth, I'm in first grade, I have a brother Alex, he's five and a really fun mom. We live outside Washington, DC. I just started on poetry in school. I was inspired to write this poem by Emily Dickinson's poetry. The poem is about heaven. I wrote it to express how I feel about my dad and the other people that I know and love who passed away. I don't know what heaven is like, but what I think it looks like is this place in my poem.

Love you,

Dad

Dear Henry:

You've got a really good friend in Ari.



Love,

Dad

p.s. David and Jeffrey are coming over tonight for a Jewish Rock Hall of Fame meeting. You'll be missed.

Dear Henry:

This was sent to me and Mom but I think it was really meant for you.

From: "Kelley, Randy C"
To: "Lauriestrongin (E-mail)"
Subject: Thank you Henry
Date: Mon, 14 Apr 2003 10:21:22 -0500

Dear Allen and Laurie,

I don't think you know me but boy I sure know you and Henry. I have been struggling with the right time to write this letter. I am the father of Hunter Kelley. Hunter too has FA. On March 15th 2000 Hunter was diagnosed.

I am not going to tell you the feeling because I think you already know. For a year and a half we searched for answers as to how to help Hunter. We attended a FA Family meeting in Sept. of 2000, mainly to meet Dr. Wagner. While at the meeting we learned for the first time about PGD. We had no idea this opportunity existed and soon found out it didn't' for us. In Oct. 2000 we went to U of Minn. for a bone marrow harvest, Hunter's cellularity at the time was 50%. During this visit we met the Nash's and even went to the Mall of America with them. We wanted so badly to try the PGD but it wasn't available to FA (A) at the time. In Oct. of 2001 we learned that FA (A) had been typed by Dr. Auerbach and that PGD was now available to FA (A) patients. It was about this time my wife (Christie) read your New York Times Magazine article. We immediately decided we had to give PGD a try. After 4 cycles and many ups and downs we got pregnant.

Eggs were implanted on Easter Sunday of 2002. On Dec. 9th Cooper Kelley was born. A perfect match for Hunter. On January 21 Hunter underwent a Sibling Matched Cord Blood Transplant at the U of Minn. Today we are back in Birmingham and Hunter is outside shooting basketball. We realize he is by no means out of the woods, but to this point he is doing great.

The reason for writing this letter is to thank you and especially thank Henry. You see if we had never read that NY Times article we would have never tried PGD. Hunter was to the point he needed a transplant and we didn't have long. You determination to succeed at PGD gave us inspiration.

Henry did not die in vain. Henry is a pioneer that has and is saving Lives everyday. I can only imagine what it is like to loose a son. Hopefully you can find some comfort in knowing without a doubt you and your son helped save our son's life.

The TV show 48 hrs. has followed our story from beginning to end. We are not sure when it will air, if ever. Hopefully it too will help someone see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Thanks Henry Goldberg your sacrifice has saved many.

Randy Kelley
CBM - Kraft Foods

You are the man.

Dad

Henry:

Check out the cover of the newspaper in Takoma Park, where Emma, Sam and Uncle Andrew and Aunt Tracey live. Isn't it great.



It's not officially springtime in Takoma until Now & Then's Spring Bonnet contest. This year's special theme was Peace Bonnets. A contestant models her entry, "Love in heaven -- dedicated to my cousin Henry."

Love you,

Dad

Dear Henry:

The reason that I didn't write the past couple of days is because Mom and I went away together. We went to an island. It was really beautiful. You would have liked it. We went away for the first time since you were born. We used to worry about going too far and we had to cancel a lot of plans. Mom and I went in the water with snorkels and saw beautiful starfish and swam with a giant sea turtle.

We read a lot of books. I read a book by someone named Jonathan Safran Foer who went to the Gan, like you. He went to the Gan a while ago and was in Cousin Samantha's class. I was a little worried about Mom reading it after I was finished because a lot of people in the book die terrible deaths. But I gave it to her and when she started it I began a book written by a woman who lives here in Glover Park. Cindy, Yuri, Anna and Nicky Picky lived next door to her before they moved. Her name is Laura Hillenbrand. The book is really good. It about a horse named Seabiscuit. You would have liked it. There is a movie coming out soon that is based on the book. The story is about Seabiscuit, who was a great racehorse, and the man who owned Seabiscuit and the men who rode him in races. The man who owned Seabiscuit lost his son in an accident. That was in the very beginning of the book, but I didn't get too sad reading that. The doctors always told us that you might not grow to be too big, so I thought you could be someone who races horses. They're called jockeys and they need to be not too big. Or you could have been an author like Jonathan Foer. I don't think he had Liane as a teacher. I used to think you could be anything you wanted to be. On our vacation there were a few times where I started to think that now you might be anything I want you to be. Maybe you were the turtle who swam with us or one of the beautiful birds we saw. I don't really believe you are a bird or a turtle, but I get a strange/funny/good feeling sometimes when a bird flies up on the window sill or a squirrel shows up outside the kitchen. I think about you.

One of the other things we did when we were there was go sailing on a Hinkley yacht. It's a big sail boat. I asked Papa Sy if I could marry Mommy when I was onboard Uncle Andy's daddy's Hinkley. Papa Sy didn't know what to make of me and my wanting to marry Mommy. He almost marched me off the dock, where the boat was tied up, and into the water. There is a whole funny story that I would probably would have told you a million times. There are stories that kids hear from their parent's over and over. It is like the parents are making sure the kids know the history of the family. Mostly they are funny stories. Your life and your death are going to be very special stories that we tell Joe, and even Jack. I hope we don't do it so often the boys get tired of it, or too sad. We'll do it right.

When we met people for the first time at the place where we were staying Mom would explain that we have 3 boys aged 1, 6 and 7. I wonder what happens after your birthday. Will Mom say we have kids aged 2, 7 and 8 or will she say that our kids are 2,7 and 7 years old? Then people will think we have twins. How is that going to work. I'll just follow Mom's lead on this

I had a really good time on our vacation, which is what I say to people when they ask. What I don't tell anyone is that it really wasn't an easy trip for me or for Mom. Mom says that it was the first time that we didn't have to "pull it together" and be strong because we have to take care of Jack and Joe or be at our jobs. We could just let go. I was sad a lot and I even started having trouble sleeping like I did right after you died. I had nightmares and I would wake up and not be able to fall back to sleep. What was really hard was the thought of coming home and you not being here. I was excited to see Joe and Jack, but in the airport I got panicked that you would not be at the house. It happened to me when I was in the newsstand getting a magazine. It went away after a little while, but I was very scared. I really want to get to the time where thinking of you makes me happy not sad.

There is something wrong with Aunt Abby's back. She hurts a lot. Her doctor wants to do surgery tomorrow. She is worried that she won't wake up. I told her that your favorite thing was to take sleepy medicine. I don't know why I just said "sleepy medicine" when you always called it by its real name, "anesthesia." Maybe I was worried that I wouldn't spell it right. You loved to try the different flavors, which I think was just chapstick spread on the rim of the mask. If you were here you'd be telling Aunt Abby to go for the Root Beer and Bubble Gum flavors. She'll be okay.

She'll be strong like you. I'll be strong like you and for you now that I'm back.

I still have a lot more to write. Tomorrow.

Good night.

Dad

Dear Henry:

This weekend, Ari and Simon and Alex went to the cemetery to visit you. They all miss you so much. Linda told Mommy that when they were getting ready to leave Ari laid down on top of your grave and hugged the earth. Simon laid on top of Ari and then Alex piled on top. Just like how you guys used to play. You are lucky to have friends like Ari and Simon. I hope they remember you when they get older.

I am glad everyone came to see you and I am really glad that you got a hug. The other night when Pop Pop Teddy was here I gave him a really long, tight hug. I think he was probably wondering why he was getting such a big hug. What I didn't tell him was that I've really been needing a big hug from you but can't have one. So I decided to give him one. I am pretty sure he liked it.



So this is how I would like your tombstone to look. What do you think? I hope you like it. Of course it will also have your name in Hebrew. I really hope I can get them to put the Batman and Pokemon logos on there. I also hope Mom is cool with this. I haven't talked to her about it much lately. I also want to get you a hummingbird feeder and hang it up in the tree over your grave. There are rules that don't allow things like a hummingbird feeder, so I'll go in after everyone leaves for the day and hang it high and out of sight. Hopefully you'll have little visitors coming to see you everyday with wings that beat 100 miles an hour.

Speaking of the Batman and Pokemon logos, you may or may not remember that I wanted to get you masks with cartoon characters and action figures. You were never too psyched about wearing your mask when we were worried you'd get sick from germs in the air. I thought that if your mask had Pikachu or the Bat signal on it you would wear it more. Your masks are still all over the place. We have them in both cars still. Mom and I are very slow about throwing away anything of yours. You were actually ahead of your time. Millions of people wear masks all the time now. There is a bad germ out there, called SARS, and people all over the world wear masks like yours so they don't get sick.

I am not sure if I told you that the wife of the man I work for is going to have a bone marrow transplant really, really soon. He has been thinking about making cool masks, too. We are going to try very hard and make it happen. Dr. Wagner knows someone at the company that makes the masks. They're in Minnesota of all places. My boss knows the person who does Power Rangers, and I can get in touch with Norman, Lisa's friend who does all of the Pokemon stuff. It would be like all of the Band-Aids with the fun pictures on them. I want to do this for you. I am sorry it is too late.

I just tucked Jack into bed. I was worried because last night he was crying when he got into bed. He was thinking about you and how much he misses you. He is still pretty upset about the blanket of his that we lost in the hotel in Minnesota when we were up there with you. It was the one that he says Grandma made for him. The other night Mom decided to give him one of your blankets to help him through the night. That was a really good idea. Mom is smart that way. Well, the good news is Jack isn't crying. I went to check on him and he told me he was a little lonely so I climbed into his bunk with him. I have to do that a little more. Mom tells me that the two of them, her and Jack, are super duper close because of how much he misses you. He kisses Mom now instead of Mom having to steal kisses from him.



Here is Jack and Jacob and Benji from two weeks ago when Benji was here from Morocco. I think it is hard for Jack that Benji is so far away.

I love you Henry. It is hard for me that you are so far away.

Daddy

Dear Henry:

I actually wrote you a letter last Friday, but a problem with the computer made it not show up. Bummer. I've got a ton of stuff to tell you, but Mommy has needed the computer tonight so you'll probably get it tomorrow.

I've been thinking about you so much.

I love you.

Dad

Dear Henry:

Tonight I told Jack that I'd pay him five bucks for a five minute hug. He wriggled out early. He thought he did four minutes and deserves four dollars. Pretty funny.

I love you.

Dad

Dear Henry:

Tonight Mom started going through a bin of clothes that have cycled from us to Aunt Tracey back to us. They are small clothes that no longer fit Sam but are just right for Joe. You wore everything first. Memories around every corner. There are sweaters that Grandma made for you. There are the basketball jerseys we bought for you. Here are two. Mom and I think we'll retire them. I'll get Joe his very own.





I love you my little superstar.

Dad

Dear Henry:

They bloomed. Here they are. Doesn't Joe look like a little lumberjack.



After I got home from flying we spent a lot of time outside in front of the house playing. Just like we used to do with you.



Right before I took this picture, Joe took a poop. He was squatting down so far that he fell over on his head. It was pretty funny. He was okay, though, and had a good time at Stoddert tonight.





Jen and Hannah came in today for the week. This is the kind of dog Aunt Jen and I had growing up. His name was Dizzy.



Here are me and Dizzy. I am 7 years old. Same as you.

I don't know this dog's name. He walked by and Aunt Jen freaked out. The dog is just like Hannah's dog, Kasha. They're pretty cute, huh. The woman who owns this dog knows Aunt Abby. It is a very small town.



I love you.

Daddy

Dear Henry:

In the sports page this morning Michael Jordan took out an ad to thank "Basketball" for such a great career. We would have read that together. I'll see if I can find a copy to put on here. It is so hard to say goodbye to things you love.

I'll write you later about my flying adventure today. You'll be with me.

Love,

Dad

Dear Henry:

Yesterday I bought the Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets DVD because I was so sad thinking about you. I watched it last night hoping it might cheer me up. I don't know how many times I told you that you were Harry Potter, the "Boy that Lived." We both believed it. It was a good movie, but that Daniel Radcliffe sure is not a very good actor. I never got a chance to watch the video with you in Minnesota. Mom says that she and you watched it all the way through. That must have been nice.

It looks a little sunny and warmer today. Maybe that will cheer me up. I think Mom, Jack and Joe are going to go out to see you. I am going flying with a friend from work in his plane. Of course I'll be thinking of you and the time we went up in Uncle Dan's plane.

I love you, munchkin.

Dad

Dear Henry:

The Fanconi Anemia Research Fund's Family Newsletter came this week. I recall writing somewhere once, maybe a fundraising letter or email, that the most depressing thing was reading the two lists that are printed in each newsletter: "New Families" and "In Loving Memory." Strangely, but nicely, there is no list of new families. There is the list of those who have died since the last newsletter. The class of '95. You are on it.



There also is an article by Dr. Wagner giving an update on the success of transplants in Minnesota. God knows, we all wanted so much for you to be a "success." Mom said something the other night which made so much sense. She said we thought there was no way you could die because you were such an extraordinary kid.



Dr. Wagner is a great doctor and a wise and compassionate man. I once joked to Mommy that if the medicine thing doesn't work out for Dr. Wagner he could always fall back on his poetry. Below is a letter that he wrote to Mom and me right after you died. I asked him if Uncle Bill could read it at the funeral. It is very special.

December 12, 2002

Laurie Strongin and Allen Goldberg

Dear Laurie and Allen,

Hours have gone by now after Henry’s death and sadness must consume you. I can only imagine how difficult it must be, and now, so many will look to you for support. They will need you to help them understand and to deal with this loss. You and Henry have touched so many lives. This is really a tribute to both of you.

Last evening as I was about to leave, there were so many things to say. I couldn’t. I was your doctor; I had an image to keep up—perhaps more for me than for you. After tucking the kids into bed last night and loving them all the more, Lisa and I talked (well, Lisa mostly listened). At the end, she said “you must talk to them…write them a letter”. It is my way to say goodbye. I won’t be there on Friday to help bury Henry so this is my closure to this long journey.

Henry died despite everything. I really thought I could pull this off. I wanted nothing more than to show you that I could do this. Even when Henry got sick, he always rebounded. Henry seemed almost invincible—even to me. But hope disappeared in a blink. This transplant was supposed to work. I feel very bad. In the end, I am consoled by your words that ‘he was given two and half extra years’. You made the most out of every second of his short life.

Yesterday, for the first time, I briefly looked at your website…now a memorial to Henry’s life. I couldn’t believe the moment had really arrived…and that the last entry was yet to be written. What would it say? How would you summarize that final moment? For you, there must have been no greater joy than having Henry by your side. I can’t imagine that you could have done a better job for Henry. You gave him life and you stood by his side every step of the way. You taught him to live and live completely. You gave him space and freedom…he could only know that he was loved. As his parents, you did what you had to do. You pulled every string, made every phone call, and traveled to the ends of the earth.

Henry is gone. You will never see him again. You will never know what he was to become. Oh! How we could have used him as President. While you may sometimes wonder what he might have been, you will never wonder how much he mattered to everyone around him. You will always, always be proud of him. And, you will never lose that pride. But, the genes foretold of this day. We only refused to accept it without a fight. You wouldn’t have done it any other way. Though we failed to change the course of history, Henry’s journey was brilliant.

I will miss him too.

John

Henry, I cannot explain why but all of us are feeling really bad right now. Mom and Uncle Bill think it might have something to do with it being Passover. Do you remember how Moses instructed the Jews to put blood on their doorposts so they wouldn't be visited by the angel of death. It didn't work for us. We lost our first-born. We lost you.

Jack was sitting alone on the floor of your room tonight looking through his "Henry Memory Box." Mom said when she came in Jack was very, very sad. He is doing incredibly well given the circumstances. He told Mom that he wants to come see you. I think that is a great idea. I had a terrible panic last night when I was getting ready to go to sleep. For some reason I thought really deep and hard about the fact that you are gone for good. The pain in me went so deep that I was scared. I was scared because I knew that I could do nothing to bring you back. I was scared because I didn't know how I could live without you. Joe was asleep and Mommy and Jack were in St. Michaels. It was terrible.

I think Mommy is really sad but is being strong for me and Jack. I will be strong for her when she needs me. Joe takes care of all of us with his smile and his spirit. When he was in the bath this morning I was thinking he is a combination of Jack and you. Joe basically had no room to sit because the tub was filled with your Pokemon and Jack's whales and sharks. He lines up the whales on the edge of the tub the same way you lined up your Pokemon figures. He is lucky to have parts of both of you in him.

After getting very pruney in the bath, Joe and I went out for a walk. We were stopped by a nanny who wanted to tell me how sorry she was that you had died. I didn't know her, but you have so many friends it was hard to keep track. I wish I could tell you her name. Speaking of your friends, Mom and Jack went to Georgetown to resupply the Band-aids. Everyone was there and Mom said it was very emotional. Mom also told me that "Henry's Toolbox" of Band-aids is a big hit with the other kids. It makes them feel good.

A young couple bought the house next door. Joe and I spoke to them this morning. They asked about Joe's brothers and I told them about you and Jack. When they asked me how Mom and I are doing, I explained that we are very sad, maybe even more sad now than ever. I think that what is happening is similar to what happened to me after my knee surgery. I was in a lot of pain afterwards but after a while in bed I felt better and thought it was time to get up and get moving again. The only problem was I really wasn't all better and when I tried to move around I realized that it was too early and that I needed to heal a little more. I think sometimes your mind is ready to get moving again but your body, or in this case, your emotions really aren't at full strength.

Two pieces of news about the house. First, we got rid of the "Whomping Willow" in the backyard. It is hard to cut down such a big tree, but that thing had the nastiest prickers. You'll be glad to know it is gone. I don't know why it took so long. The second important update is that we have cable again. It is a different company so we have to learn new channel numbers for our favorites, like Nickelodeon and Discovery. You'd be pysched, there is a new channel that is called "Toon Disney." They have a commercial for a CD of songs sung by Disney movie princesses, like Ariel, Belle and Mulan. I get a little teary when I see it. I know how much you loved those songs. We loved them together.

Oh yeah, another musical note. Mom, Jack, Joe and I were in the car tonight listening to XM Kids and Schoolhouse Rock's "No More Kings" came on. I began to cry and turned my face to the window so no-one would see. That happened to me twice on the train back from New York. I know that this is just a stage in the grieving process. I am looking forward to the time when thoughts of you will make me only smile and laugh.

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND MISS YOU MORE THAN I CAN SAY.

Your Daddy

p.s. My prediction was off. The azaleas haven't fully blossomed yet. A picture will come soon.

Dear Henry:

You had a disease called Fanconi anemia. Having Fanconi anemia means you are missing the "Fanconi" gene in every single cell in your body. I feel like something similar has happened to me. I am missing you in every cell of my body. Just like you did for seven years, I can live with it but I feel it, it affects me. The only way anyone could tell by looking at you that you had Fanconi anemia is that your eyes were a little small. You shared those eyes with Molly, and Amitai and Emily Salo. Just like you, I have eyes that give away what I am missing. I look into my eyes when I sit at the gym (the whole place is mirrors) and I see my sadness. I see you not there.

The other day this guy at the gym asked me if the weights were in kilos. He had a foreign accent and did not speak English very well. I told him, "no they are in pounds." A good thing for him I was your dad. Having taken you to the clinic every day and having helped you weigh yourself in kilos and then pounds, I was very up on my metric conversion. I remember cheering any upward movement in your weight. Even if you really didn't gain any weight I made you think you did.

I went to New York yesterday and came back today. The train trip gave me a lot of time to think of you. I became very sad when I thought about what New York meant to us all of these years. Mom would always say that her trips to New York were life and death and I never thought too hard about it. She was right. If we had been successful at Cornell with Dr. Rosenwaks you would have been with us at the seder tonight.

I have a lot to tell you about my trip but I am pretty upset right now and don't feel much like writing. I'll fill you in tomorrow. The good news is Jack's loose tooth. I know how you wanted to lose a tooth.

I love you.

Dad

Dear Henry:

Jack told me tonight that his favorite part of Passover is to be together.

We all missed you very much.

I love you,

Dad

Dear Henry:

This is Jack writing. My tooth is loose. My second one in the middle. Bottom.

I miss you.

Jack

Dear Henry:

Sam I Am Shoyer is having a sleepover tonight with Jack. It is spring (Passover) break, so Jack and Sam are still awake. It is 10:30 pm. I helped them make a blanket fort in the bunk beds. The two of them are wearing headlamps and watching Space Jam on your portable DVD player. It is a very sweet setup. I'll fall asleep before they do.

I thought it was neat that they picked Space Jam to watch because tonight was Michael Jordan's last professional basketball game. He scored 21 points. I really messed up never taking you to a game. Sorry. I know you loved MJ. The Wizards wore the old Bullets jersey from when I was a kid. I would have liked to have gotten you one of those "throwback" jerseys. I remember when I took Jack to the game with Todd and Jacob and I bought you a no. 23 Wizards jersey. That thing was way expensive and way worth it. Oh yeah, your other favorite, Juan Dixon, played really well this year, too.

I am going up to New York tomorrow for work. I think I'll walk around and take some photos of your favorite places, like the Pokemon store.

Jen and Pamela got Mom a really cool Pez dispenser for her birthday. It is totally up your alley.



O Henry. These days without you are so hard. I wish you could come back to me. I walked by Guy Mason tonight and saw a kid and thought it was you, or looked like you.

Goodnight love bug.

Dad

p.s. I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dear Henry:

Spring two short years ago. We sent this postcard to all of our friends to let them know you were doing well. We thanked them for helping us. All of us thought we were in the clear. This seems so far away. I cried tonight because you seem so far away.




This is the card we sent out to friends this spring.



Today was another spring day to remember. The flowers are exploding all over the place. Our azaleas (the best on the block, right) are ready to burst. I'll show you a photo. I bet it will be in 2 days. Let's see if I am right.

Debbie and Andy and Aaron and Daniel came in from Philadelphia and spent the weekend with us. We all went to Guy Mason and Max's for old time's sake. Mom and I pulled Jack's old tractor out from under the porch for Joe and he loves it. Your John Deere tractor that Grandma and Pop Pop Teddy got you is out at St. Michaels. I know Joe will have as much fun on it as you and Jack had.



I had a good time with Joe today. We went over to Stoddert and played for a long time on the playground. The "small park," as you used to call it. Joe was very excited to find big sticks and to uncover just the right rocks to put in his mouth.

This next photo is Jack in front of Bill and Michael's yard next door. I took the photo from the front of our house. Looks like a jungle, doesn't it. Mommy planted some very pretty flowers. You used to make little bouquets for Mom. Do you remember the flowers you always bought for dates with Bella. What a gentleman.



Jack and Aaron and David were being true boys today. They went on a serious bug hunt. Poor bugs.



I love you my sweet, gentle man. Every day I think how proud I am to be your,

Dad

Dear Henry:

We went to Turtle Park this morning.



It is actually a beautiful, warm spring day today. This picture was taken in the winter. We ran into Jeffrey and Talia and Ellie and William at the park. I love this city. Jeffrey is back safe and sound from the war. Yeah.

I didn't tell you about Rachel's Bat Mitzvah last weekend. Sorry. It was your kind of party. The girls looked like princesses and the boys wore tuxedos. Ari looked very handsome. The invitations to the party said, "Black Tie Optional." One of the things dads do is give their sons and daughters advice. It is just something we do. One piece of advice I'd give you is if you are invited to a party and the invitation says "Black Tie Optional," go ahead and wear the tuxedo. That advice is probably not necessary for you. You loved to get dressed up. You and Ari are alike that way. Ari was really "bustin' a move" at the party and that made me think of you, too. If you were there you would have been dancing up a storm with your buddy. That would have been fun to watch. Mommy and I played with Jake's mommy and daddy, Helaine and Rich, and Simon's mom, Susan, all night.

Mommy looked beautiful. You would have told her that. I wasn't looking forward to wearing my tuxedo. It's a little silly, but I'll tell you why. I knew that the bow tie and the thing you wear around your waist, the cummerbund (another daddy tip: the cummerbund is also known as a "crumb-catcher" and that helps you know which side is up -- Steve Feldman taught me that), were thrown way in the back of the top shelf of my closet. I think I just threw them back there after the last time I wore my tuxedo which was Catherine and Tim's wedding years ago.



Catherine and Tim and Winnie (can you believe how big she is) came by the other day to say "hello." Joe loves dogs but Jack is freaked out. I think Jack is afraid of dogs because Jinx nipped him in the forehead at the beach when Jack's was a baby. He'll get over it.

I knew there was something else that I threw on that top shelf that I wanted to keep but wasn't ready to look at quite yet. The night you died I pulled the intubation tube out of your throat. When I tried to pick you up to put you on Mom's lap, some blood trickled out of your mouth onto my t-shirt. For some reason I didn't want to take off that t-shirt and I definitely do not want to wash it ever. When President Kennedy died (they mention him in the Animaniac's song about the presidents) his wife wore a dress with his blood stains on it for a really long time. I understand why. Well, seeing that t-shirt wasn't all that bad, but I did start the evening off kinda sad.

The next day after the Bat Mitzvah we ran into Ari at Sullivan's. How perfect is that.

You know, Hen, what really gets me isn't how much I miss you ('cause that is just so huge and constant), but it is how sad I am that you are missing out on so many things I know you love. The Bat Mitzvah, beautiful days at Turtle Park, trips to Sullivans and my new job. Let me tell you a little more about the job. I work at a place called XM Satellite Radio and it is the coolest place. The people there are fun to be around because everyone is so nice and different. There are 300 something people in my building and so many look different, have different skin, different hair, different clothes, everything. XM radio is actually 101 different radio stations playing all kinds of music, and it all comes out of the building where I work here in Washington, DC. There are music stations, comedy stations, and most important of all, two kid's stations. One is Radio Disney, which is what we listened to down in Florida, and the other is called XM Kids. YOU WOULD LOVE XM KIDS! We listen to it all of the time and it is so funny. Jack's favorite songs right now are "Poop Goes the Weasel" and "Twenty-one Toilet Salute." He laughs so hard that I think he is going to pee in his pants. I LOVE to hear him laugh like that. Oops, remember the rule we had against "potty talk" I wonder if I am breaking that. XM Kids even plays a song inspired by Harry Potter and I know you would love hearing that.

Our building is right near the train station. The trains whistle all day. When I hear the noise I look out and see the trains pass by. How cool is that.

You remember that song we used to sing all the time, "I got my mind on my money and my money on my mind?" That was written by a guy with a great name, "Snoop Dog," and the version we listen to is by a group called "The Gourds." Whaddya know, The Gourds came by our building last week and played songs. I asked the person who brought them there to play if they could play the "I got my mind on my money and my money on my mind" song.

I read Goodnight Moon to you last night before I fell asleep. I just wanted you to know that I totally know you are way too grown up for that book. But I really wanted to read it to you. In a way, the little bunny that is getting ready to go to sleep reminds me of you. He looks really cozy and that is how I like to picture you. What is kind of interesting is that Mom and I live your entire life in our minds. We think about you when you were a little squirt all the way up to the big, 7 year old boy you were when you died. I wish there had been a lot more years and a lot more memories.

I love you.

Dad

Dear Henry:

I've wanted to do this for so long...



In the great green room
There was a telephone
And a red balloon
And a picture of

The cow jumping over the moon

And there were three little bears sitting on chairs

And two little kittens
And a pair of mittens

And a little toyhouse
And a young mouse

And a comb and a brush and a bowl full of mush

And a quiet old lady who was whispering "hush"

Goodnight room

Goodnight moon

Goodnight cow jumping over the moon

Goodnight light
And the red balloon
Goodnight bears
Goodnight chairs

Goodnight kittens

And goodnight mittens

Goodnight clocks
And goodnight socks

Goodnight little house

And goodnight mouse

Goodnight comb
And goodnight brush

Goodnight nobody

Goodnight mush

And goodnight to the old lady whispering "hush"

Goodnight stars

Goodnight air

Goodnight noises everywhere.

Goodnight Henry.

Dad

Dear Henry:

Just a little update on brother Jack. He is pretty much the same. Only difference now is a full-blown obsession with Yu-Gi-Oh. I would say that he likes Yu-Gi-Oh as much now as when you loved Pokemon after Batman and before Digimon. Funny thing is that he trades these cards with his friends and they won't let them bring the cards to school. Check out this card. I think it is the perfect thing for the Jewish Primary Day School, but I guess they don't see it that way.



Jack always asks me to get him this card or that, and I do my, "of course, whatever you want" thing. Well that kinda backfired on me. I went online with Jack to buy these two cards he really wants. Guess how much they cost. $95 apiece! Holy moly. Guess who had to tell Jack that he wasn't gonna get those 2 cards. I have to be more careful about what I promise.

Benjy is back from Morroco for Passover. He came over today and played with Jack. I think Jack was in heaven (did you see him?). Tomorrow will be more Benjy and then Aaron Katz is in town for a visit.

Mom just told me that she wants to take Jack to the doctor tomorrow morning. His voice is hoarse. I am not sure but I trust Mom's instincts.

I have so much to tell you but I am pretty tired right now. I'll write you some more tomorrow.

Love you big fella.

Dad

Dear Henry:

Actual conversation with Jack that happened two minutes ago. Jack is watching a Yu-Gi-Oh video that he and Mom rented at Blockbuster.

Dad: Jack, haven't you seen this one before.
Jack: Yeah, but this one is on video.

I love you guys.

Dad

Dear Henry:

I'm sitting here struggling with how to sign Mommy's birthday card. I've always signed things from Daddy, Henry, Jack & Joe. I thought about this a lot. I am sad and I am unsure what is right, but I know what I feel. I decided to go ahead and sign your name. I have your proxy on these matters (grown up talk), and I don't feel right about "cutting you out" of this.

I hope she likes what we got her.

Love,

Dad

Dear Henry:

Remember how Helaine set it up so you could play chess with Jake on the Internet. That was fun.

Today is Mom's birthday. I'll let you know her birthday present after I give it to her. It's a surprise. Hope she likes it. It was always easy to buy you a present. Stick to Pokemon, Digimon or Star Wars and we were guaranteed a smile.

Last night I was addressing cards to some of the people who have been nice to you and us over the years. I wrote envelopes to the woman at LucasFilms who gave us the Star Wars stuff (Yoda still keeps guard upstairs); Norman, the nice man who produces the Pokemon movies and gave us Pokemon 4 before it came out in the theater; and last but not least, the super duper sweet woman at Warner Bros. who made sure you saw Harry Potter even though you weren't able to go to a movie theater. There are a lot of nice people in the world. I hope someday I can do favors the way they did and make people smile.

I was telling you about how I have a lot of mixed feelings. Here is one I was thinking about on my way to work this morning. I really LOVE my new job, but I am sad because you aren't here to know all about it and to enjoy it, too. I guess the rest of my life is going to be like that. What are you doing being dead; I've got so much to share with you.

I miss you.

Love,

Dad

Dear Henry:

Guess what. Your hospitals played each other yesterday. Georgetown University Hoyas beat the University of Minnesota Golden Gophers in basketball. I looked to see how Sara's season went and she got a lot of awards for playing so well. Here is the story I found.

Georgetown Volleyball Announces 2002 Team Awards

March 31, 2003

Washington, DC— Georgetown Volleyball Head Coach Li Liu announced the winners of the 2002 Georgetown Volleyball Team Awards at the annual banquet held at Maggiano’s. Awards were handed out for Most Valuable Player, Most Improved Player, Leadership, 100% and Coach's Award.

Sophomore middle blocker Sara Albert (Davis, Calif./Davis) received the 2002 Coach’s Award. Albert led Georgetown and the BIG EAST all season long in hitting percentage with a .411 average on the strength of 257 kills with just 58 errors in 484 attempts. The .411 hitting percentage also ranked her seventh in the nation among Division I players. In addition, Albert led the team in blocks with 139, including 32 solo stops, and was second on the squad in kills with the 257 total. She picked up BIG EAST Player of the Week honors during the week of October 7 after recording a triple-double performance against Miami. Albert had 11 kills, 11 digs and 10 blocks in the Hoyas’ 3-2 victory over the Hurricanes.

I am sorry you never got to see her play. I know she cared about you a lot.

I love you.

Dad

Dear Henry:

Now that I am working and getting home late, my big thing is to read "Goodnight Moon" to Joe on my lap. When we're done, I give him a kiss and put him in his crib to fall asleep. Tonight I tried to read "Curious George and the Bunny" before reading "Goodnight Moon" and Joe basically said, "No way, Dad." He kept trying to shut the Curious George book until I got the message and picked up "Goodnight Moon" and started reading. He's a man who knows what he wants. I thought it was sweet.

Last night I was reading Jack a last book and I had to stop a few pages into it and ask if I could finish it another time. The book was about whales. I ran into a problem when I reached a page that talked about how whales hold their breath for up to two hours. The book said the whales' lungs aren't all that special, they just know how to use them really well. I started thinking about the PFT tests you took in Minnesota. Do you remember how you sat in the space ship thingy and blew into the hose.



Remember how we held on to the nose clip and brought it back to the hotel with us. We used it as protection against stinky feet and all other bad smells. We couldn't wait to show Jack when he got there.

You did such a great job blowing and not freaking out inside the chamber. Your lung capacity wasn't exactly right, but I don't think anyone was too worried. I wish they had been. Your lungs had the infection that made you die. I used to think you got the infection when we went to go get Mom that present at Ampersand. You weren't supposed to be around construction sites and they were definitely working on that building. Thinking about all of this last night made me sad. Isn't that crazy; whales make me sad about you. Mom was out with Jen Klein, Pamela, Samantha Knapp's mom, Jeannie and Val, so I just went to sleep when Jack went to bed. I have a lot to do at night, but can't seem to get anything done. I gotta work on that.

This morning I was listening to the radio again in the car. A man who is the poet for the United States (how cool is that job) was talking about how April is poetry month. Did you know that; I didn't. You used to write poems in school. I need to find some and put them on here for us to read together. The man said that someone once said, he didn't say who, that poetry is the clear expression of mixed feelings. Mixed feeling is what I'm all about -- I am glad you're not suffering but I am so sad that you aren't here with me. I wish I could write some poetry to talk about the mixed feelings I have. I don't think you had mixed feelings when you wrote your poetry. Basically it was how much you loved Mom or Bella. You were very certain of those feelings. What do you want to get Mom for her birthday. I guess I'm not supposed to get her anything from you. That is probably not right. Yikes, I'm not so sure what to do. It is gonna be hard to write a card just from Joe and Jack.

Speaking of poetry, your buddy Jeffrey is over where the war is taking place. He is writing stories about the war and I read one today. In the middle of all the bad fighting Jeffrey found a guy who is kinda like the poet of that country, or will be when they get rid of the bad president. Jeffrey wrote some stuff about the poetman. Do you think Jeffrey knew April is poetry month. Probably, he is a smarty farty. I hope Jeffrey comes home soon. Remember when you watched TV in Jeffrey and Pamela's basement. He was very sweet with you. That was nice. It doesn't seem so long ago.

Oh my god, I almost forgot. Do you know what today is? April Fools Day. I told Jack when I woke him up that there was 3 feet of snow on the ground and school was cancelled. When he rolled over to go back to sleep, I told him, "April Fools!" Then Jack started playing April Fools jokes all morning. He was really funny. We are such kings of bad jokes. You know what the worst joke is, and it better be a joke, the cable went out. We can't watch Spongebob, Jimmy Neutron or The Wiggles. We'll give it some time to start working again.

I wanted to tell you a little about my job, but I'll do it tomorrow. I will tell you that I wear this necklace thing that has a photo of me on it attached to a cord that pulls in and out like a tape measure, or a dog leash. You were a huge tape measure fan. Remember the one Grandma gave you. You loved playing with that thing. You would have loved playing with my ID, and I would have loved for you to play with it.

I love you, man.

Dad