Monthly Archives: July 2004

Camp Eton: Friends Regained

About forty years ago, Karen went to a little Jewish summer camp near Rhinebeck New York, called Camp Eton. Her father was the camp Rabbi. A group of friends from Karen’s bunk called themselves The Three Musketeers. For several summers this little group of girls were the best of friends. At night, they would sit […]

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Burning Granite

We wait all week for Shabbos. For the observant Jew, the Sabbath is a taste of heaven. When Ariel was alive, we would walk together to shul. There we would pray and say, “Good Shabbos, Good Shabbos” to all the others in the Young Israel of Century City. Then, at the Shabbos table, we would […]

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Do Not Ask Why

When Ariel was in the Intensive Care Unit, in the last few weeks of his life, his Rebbe from Ner Yisroel flew in from Baltimore to be by his side. The relationship between a Rebbe and his pupil is special. In some ways Rebbe (teacher) and talmid( student) forge bonds of love and friendship that […]

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Seraphic Secret in the Press

Several weeks ago, Jason Maoz, Editor-in-Chief of The Jewish Press wrote me an e-mail. He told me that reading Seraphic Secret, my diary of grief and loss and love, has had a profound impact on him. Jason asked my permission to publish excerpts from this blog as a front page story in The Jewish Press, […]

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Camellia

Two years ago, with Ariel, Karen and I went to Seattle to consult with a specialist about the fibrosis that had crept like a thief into Ariel’s lungs. Because of his condition, Ariel was not allowed to fly. We traveled by train. It was not easy. We had to schlep oxygen cylinders in addition to […]

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Words of Fire

It happens now when I least expect it. Before, it was a chord of music, the page of a book, a prayer chanted in shul that would bring Ariel before my eyes. No, not an hallucination. But something more tangible. His presence would suddenly fill my body, and I would be frozen. My heart would […]

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Rochelly’s Kitchen

From the death of my son Ariel, these pages are born. I write amost exclusively about Ariel, of who he was, of how much we miss him. But there are other children who have made their way into my consciousness. As I once wrote, parents of children who have died belong to an exclusive club; […]

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