Elie's Expositions

A bereaved father blogging for catharsis... and for distraction. Accordingly, you'll see a diverse set of topics and posts here, from the affecting to the analytical to the absurd. Something for everyone, but all, at the core, meeting a personal need.

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Tuesday, May 02, 2006


I've always been the kind of person who can endure almost anything as long as it's time-limited, boundaried, and finite. Knowing in advance that an experience, however painful and dreadful, will have a definite, predictable end, has generally enabled me to steel myself, gather my strength and resilience, and persevere.

But then comes the morning after. There's got to be one, says the song. But the song doesn't tell you just how difficult that morning after can be.

I made it through Sunday's unveiling on pure intensity - of mind, body, and emotion. The past 48 hours have, ironically, been more difficult, more depressing, than the event itself. The unveiling was a focused channel for my grief and misery, and thus helped contain and even, to some degree, purify and uplift those feelings. I was surrounded by supportive family and friends, and bolstered by the realization that I was doing what must be done for my son. This Shabboses yahrzeit, Sunday's charity event, will be similar flash-points of concentrated feeling, acute activity, cathartic release.

But when this week is over... will I be able to return to dull reality again?

How can I face the rest of my life looming ahead of me, knowing that Aaron will never again be a part of it?

After closure, how do you move on?

I look inside for the answers, and find only more questions. Maybe the how of this tragic situation, like the why, can never have a satisfactory answer. Nor this post a satisfactory end. All I can do is, as the saying goes, keep on keeping on.


At 5/2/06, 11:25 PM, Anonymous Esther said...


You will keep on, one day at at time. And at some point, somewhere in the future, g-d willing, there will come a morning after that is just a little tiny bit better than the morning before. And the Aaron memories and the Aaron whose neshama is eternal will continue to be a part of your life... In amazing ways, like the wallet story and in small ways, like Debbie dyeing her hair because Aaron never liked any signs of grey..

Chazak Vamatz,


At 5/3/06, 5:54 AM, Blogger Alan aka Avrum ben Avrum said...

Dear Reb Elie,

At 4:03 in the morning,I sit here asking myself: 'What can I say that hasn't already been said over and over and over again, seeking to avoid the trite, trivial and the maudlin, I'm coming up with ... nothing-not any new thing that I imagine you've not already heard countless, innumerable times. Why? Why is that? ... Simply because it doesn't get any better! Oh sure ... there will be days when coping will be easier or, should I say 'less difficult'-days when you might even experience joy, but it remains an unalterable fact that it'll always be lessened to some extent by the tangible absence of Aaron. Just last Saturday night, we celebrated my dad's 85th birthday. There amidst family and friends, we celebrated, ate, drank, but in my head my thoughts invariably turned to Ben and much grander the occasion would have been had he been there. Last night upon meeting my kallah, mother and my son Zac for dinner, I greeted Zac by saying: "Hi Ben!" Ooops! Oh well ... it's happened before and it'll happen again. On the other hand, isn't our sense of Jewish joy always tempered by sad, sobering remembrance? As we near Succos, will we not end 'Z'man Simchasenu' with Yiskor? Why do we have to recall the destructions of the batei mikdash, why that glass being broken? After the overwhelming joy of a wedding ... the sobering reminder of our darker moments ... because that IS the way life is: neither black nor white but a complete range of grey tones!

As I sense that I'm beginning to ramble and knowing full well that I have failed in trying to say things you've not already heard, I end by saying from one bereaved dad to another that you should find even the tiniest bit of joy each and every day and may that joy be when Aaron Z'L enters your head for precisely that tiny moment-you'll spend that time together. After all, good things are always better when shared, are they not? :)

I remain,

Very Sincerely yours,

Alan D. Busch


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