Soccer Dad

One year ago ...

It's hard to believe that nearly a year has passed since I stood with hundreds on a beautiful May day on a beautiful lawn. But the scrape of earth against wood reminded me that the unreality of the past few days was all too real.

Aaron, Elie and Debbie Rosenfeld's oldest son, passed away, just a few days after he was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Our prayers were answered in the negative.

In the jumble of memories going back to the Sunday morning we first heard the news that Aaron was critically ill, I remember feeling some sense of hope. The problem was that those who had informed us had Friday's news. And even that news was apparently innaccurate. But that's what happens.

I kept hoping or expecting to hear of a miracle; a never before experienced recovery. It wasn't until I spoke to Elie that Sunday night that I got a full idea that at that point that there was nothing left to do but wait.

The pain and loss were not my own. But when you watch a friend in pain; it's impossible not to feel it strongly too.

This Sunday - a year after I stood on that beautiful lawn, a year after my wife observed the incongruity of students getting into cars festooned with "Class of '05" and heading off for the cemetery - I plan to be at the inauguration of the Aaron Rosenfeld Memorial Fund.

It will be in the same Shul where I sat and heard Aaron's Rebbe say words to the effect of

In Israel Yeshivas were all asking Aaron 'come to my Yeshiva' but then Hashem said 'Come to my Yeshiva'

I do not know how my friends bear their pain and loss. It is one too great to imagine.

But I have watched this year as Elie has dealt with his loss with such dignity and poignancy. And anything I say will seem like so many cliches. Perhaps the best approach is to use the accepted formula

HaMakom yenachem eschem b'soch aveili Tzion Virushalayim / May God console you among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.

And may continue to share Simchos together.