Robert J. Avrech: Emmy Award winning screenwriter. Movie fanatic. Helplessly and hopelessly in love with my wife since age nine.
My father, Rabbi Chaplain Abraham Avrech passed away on March 15, 2014.
He is gone, but like all veterans certainly not forgotten.
Take a moment to ponder the enormous sacrifices made by our nation’s heroes and their families.
My father, Rabbi Chaplain Abraham Avrech, z’l, passed away on March 15, 2014, which the Jewish calendar translates into the 13th of Adar. Thus, last night — Jewish holidays begin after sundown — commenced the sixth Yahrzeit, memorial, without my father’s physical presence in this world. My father was 94 years old when he died.
He is gone, but he is certainly not forgotten.
I ponder the astonishing trajectory of my father’s life. Born in a tiny impoverished Polish town, my father and his family emigrated to America where they found the liberty to live as Jews and Americans.
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On Memorial Day, we remember all the members of our armed services who paid the ultimate price in service to this great country.
Our eternal gratitude.
Shiva is complete. I am now in a period called shloshim.
Emerging from shiva is something of a shock. For the seven days of mourning I neither watched TV news nor read newspapers. My daily TCM fix was terminated. And politics was a blessedly distant shore. Not talking about things Obama is a huge relief.
My time on the computer was limited to e-mail. Instead, I was surrounded by friends and relatives. I talked about my father’s full and varied life, and his remarkable accomplishments.