My parents both left before the war as teens (they met after the war - long story), but I always wonder if I would have been able to leave my childhood home with one suitcase, as my dad did. Or survive the camps. I have been told many of us 2nd Gen folks wonder about that.

Yehudit: I think about it a lot, but especially when I'm fasting.

I fasted. I had my tremendous headache all weekend, which in this case had nothing to do with fasting. IBut,interestingly enough, by early Sunday evening the headache was gone.

Re. surviving in the camps or in the forest of the partisans, I, too, often think about it...especially with a survivor father. It's on very very cold winter days that I think about it -- how I bundle myself in layers, while the prisoners wore thin, threadbare garments, were often shoeless and had to stand at attention for hours at a time.

When we feast or fast, I think about the survivors and their scanty bowl of "soup," perhaps with a morsel of potato thrown in or a moldy crust of bread.

Robert, son #1 finished reading "The Devil's Arithmetic" last week and we were discussing exactly this issue of feasting, fasting and the camp "meals"...

(and as I type in the "security code" to post this comment, I feel that I am typing a survivor's branded number...)

Maybe that's one of the points of fasting. It usually doesn't bother me but it was soooo hot and muggy and smoggy in NYC yesterday, it was THE worst day of summer 2005. I was so thirsty. So of course I thought "well, what if I were lost in the desert/in a concentration camp/being tortured/etc???"

Robert, I am so saddened to hear the words from you, "I'm a weak and useless Jew". In the months I have been reading your blog, I have learned so much from YOU. You have been an inspiration to me in so many ways...I admire your committment to Judaism and G-d, even in the wake of losing a child. I admire your honesty in sharing your life story, both about your grief, and your wonderful love story. You continue to write screenplays, as well as, beautiful books for children. Many people would have folded up in the wake of the death of a child...you have not. You take those breaths each day, and continue to create. Robert,you have made a difference in so many lives...you are one of the most courageous people I know.

Robert, please don't get down on yourself. So many people would look at what you're going through, and what you've gone through and wonder the same thing, and come to the same conclusions. Everyone does the best they can with what they get, and you are not a weak and useless Jew. You're strong and noble, just like your description of Ariel. You are a ray of light.

Robert, of all your posts, this one touched me the most. I've been thinking of a powerful leitmotif in your life: life has played some major tricks on your mind. I suspect you realize this, since mind tricks were such a huge part of "Body Double," but allow me to enumerate what you've described just in the blog alone:

1) You grew up wanting to be a Hollywood screenwriter and yet you KNEW it could not be done. Instead, you indeed become a screenwriter and a successful one at that.

2) You fall for Karen at a very young age, and KNOW you will never actually be with her. And yet, you do, and you are. And unlike so many people who yearn for something for years and then lose interest, you are still in a truly loving marriage.

3) You are treated poorly by the established modern Orthodox world, abused physically by the revered founder of the great Yeshiva of Flatbush, denegrated for your career aspirations, and made to feel isolated socially. And yet you remain not only an Orthodox Jew in name, but in spirit and in practice as well. I realize you have doubts as we all do, but everything about your beliefs that I've read here is basically the mainstream way of thought in the Orthodox world from your theology to your politics. This is not criticism or praise, just an observation that your mind seems to be playing tricks on you, making you feel like an outsider, when I don't believe you are. If anything, the "Hebrew Kid" books will make you a Modern Orthodox household name in no time.

4) I'm hesitant to do this one, because it's so personal for you. But you have done the world, and particularly the Jewish world, a favor by being so open with your personal feelings that I think an observation about you and Ariel is appropriate as long as you know this comes from the highest degrees of respect and kindness for the both of you. Okay, here goes... The last trick life and perhaps your mind has played on you is this: While you feel somewhat outside the mainstream of Orthodox life, your son grows up to be not just religious, but even more religious than you ever dreamed you would be. He is truly devout, making this choice on his own and holding on to it through a terribly fatal illness. This is the cruelest trick of them all, because while you seemed to expect the worst in the other aspects of your life that have become great successes, the greatest pain and disappointment were a shock you could not have forseen, the death of a child.

I admire that Ariel's death hasn't taken some of the other precious things you have in your life away. You are still a great writer, and I think you're even better now and certainly reaching new audiences who need you. You still have this wonderful relationship with Karen and are finding the will to write its history publicly. And you are still an Orthodox Jew, speaking your piece about politics, going to shul, fasting, etc. I know you're feeling empty at times, but you do not strike me in a million years as the kind of person who performs his religious practices mindlessly or because "everyone else you know is doing it."

A long time ago, I left that life behind, mostly because I also wanted to make all my own choices and take responsibility for them. It's scary sometimes, and I have no idea how I will explain lots of things to my 2-year old daughter who I want to raise as a Jew in my own way. Right now, I'm mainly a 3rd rate TV journalist on a 3rd rate network. I'm also a comedian who writes material for 100's of radio stations for free and thinks this will actually help me get a job on the Tonight Show. So, perhaps my analyses aren't worth the room they take up in cyberspace. But I know one thing: If life ends up playing tricks on my mind, I shouldn't be surprised.

You are all very kind. Thank you.

It's not about being "kind," Robert. It's about being honest, telling it as we see it, telling it like it is...

I think that there is often more strength in us than we are conscious of. There is a lot of power inside, but it is not something that we think about.

You haven't given up and that speaks volumes.

Robert and Karen, only someone who has gone through it can really understand. May there be no more of us.

Your ability to write about Ariel was a big reason I found the courage to start writing about Aaron. So thanks. And keep it up, whenever you can.

Robert and Karen,
As someone who has grieved since the age of 10, I do know this...you and your grief share a relationship unique only to you. It is yours to go through in your own way, your own time. Some days are like a trip through hell, some days are okay, and others are both. You have been willing to let us glimpse at that relationship and that is so brave.We cannot heal it for you, but we can listen and let you know we care. And, hopefully, be a cushion for you to fall on if you need an extra place to land.

When I first came upon your blog, the post I saw was about Ariel, z"tl. I couldn't stop crying and felt compelled to read every post there was, all the way back to the beginning, though it kept me up well into the early morning hours. You brought your son to life for those of us who never had the honor of knowing him. His strength, your pain (and that of your wife), and the love you had for each other came flowing out in your words, making them palpable, real.

My grandmother lost a son, who I am named after. She never wanted to talk about him, and when he was mentioned she would turn away and sob. Though he died of cancer at 15, it was always as if he had just died yesterday. She outlived him by 31 years, twice his lifetime.

Your posts have given me a glimpse into what my grandmother must have been thinking and feeling each time she turned away to cry.

You say you are a weak and useless Jew; I say you have more strength than most. Your sharing Ariel with the world may be foremost an act of mourning, a pouring out of grief, a way to keep him present, but it is also an act of strength, a gift for anyone who has ever experienced loss, and an inspiration to live a vibrant, honest and pure life at any age, with whatever time you have.

Thank you for sharing his life. And your own.

This is Karen thanking you all for your incredibly insightful and thoughtful comments. You never met Ariel, and many of you never met Robert, yet you seem to know them so well. We feel so grateful and undeserving of the time and thought you have given to us and Robert, is almost abashed that he revealed so much of his anguish.

I am late getting here to your blog. (It hasn't been a great day).

I want to comment, but after having read this post and all of the related comments, I cannot see through my tears to do that.

Robert, you're always telling me that I know more about Judaism than most Jews. Okay, I'm no scholar, but you're right - I've learned a lot in the last year or so, and all from you and Ariel.

Last night, poring over The Book of Ariel (as I seem to do most nights, reading and re-reading the pages and trying to work out the Hebrew), I realised that if you and Karen had not made the monumental effort - through your grief, physical pain, and trials of everyday life - I and so many others would never have known about Ariel or been influenced by his values and learnedness. You have made his wisdom, his brain, and pieces of his heart tangible, accessible, searchable, and permanent for so many.

Thank you both.

I have also had the honor of reading the Book of Ariel, and it must have taken an incredible amount of courage and love to compile through the pain of the loss of Ariel. I had mentioned that Ariel was on a higher level than most people, but the apple doesn't fall from the tree. Robert, Karen and their daughters are all people that we can look up to and admire.

I have remained unusually silent the past 24 hours. There are some bad days and T'sha B'av was a very bad. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

Sigh. There are no words.

you call yourself a weak and useless Jew,
oddly enough in my links on my bog i refer to you as "the strong".

http://amshinover.blogspot.com/
(glen hollman is refered to as "& the mighty")

I am sure that neither of you feel strong, I am sure that neither of you feel capable of doing this thing, the next page to write, the next meal to eat, the next breath that you must take, yet you do and you are doing them. We wonder how can G-d allow these things to happen? I can't begin to answer that one, but I would like to believe that when you grieve and when you cry, he cries with you. I am sure he must, as we are mere humans and we do. Each and every day, you give us the gift of yourselves and your son. I think that shows strength and shows too that we are all "poor jews" or "poor Christians" or poor whatever, in the face of this love that endures. From the bible "Love bears all things, Believes all things, Hopes all things, Endures all things". Your strength shows with every breath you take and each page you write and the love endures.

It is interesting that you mention Auschwitz. My grandfather was killed in Auschwitz. I think that I may have inherited his back.

I find nowadays that standing in Shul for long periods of time (e.g. Hallel) causes me intense low back pain. I find myself suffering and wishing they would just hurry up and finish and that I could go sit down.

Then recently I read Maus and transcribed my mother's Speilberg interview and started thinking of my grandfather and his crooked spine. And how they would make him stand outside, at attention, without moving, for hours at a time. And how much agony he must have been in. And how he must have just taken the pain, because he knew that if he sat down they would have shot him.

All because he was a Jew.

So now I guess standing through a long Hallel isn't so bad anymore.

But I'm upset that I've started thinking of Shul in terms of Auschwitz.

Dear psychotoddler: Thanks for writing. You are well named. Welcome to the club.

Just want to say that I read your article in the Jewish Press last week about the Dems, and it was great. Like you, I turned my back on the Democrats in the cusp between Carter and Reagan, at at time when Jesse Jackson could prevent the Democratic National Convention from condemning terror acts against Israel, something that was barely reported on in the press.

I am also deeply moved by the story of your son Ariel.

Your writing will perpetuate his memory and influence.