Vivian Zelig * Chiam ben Sholem * Dad

ON most ordinary days, it’s hard to remember where you were a year before (or two or three for that matter) but on anniversaries of major life events, it’s hard to forget.

Today is one such day.

A year ago today, I was driving home from spending time with friends watching football and I got a call from my mom. Her voice was calm. “Honey, it’s time to come home.”

I think the most remarkable thing about the next day was how beautiful my father’s coffin was. A plain light colored wood with a simple wooden Jewish star raised in the same wood. It’s hard for me to picture him in there, wrapped in white cotton. But I suppose it’s a good place for him to be.

I sometimes talk to him when I’m in the airplane. For some reason I have this notion that he’ll be able to hear me better when I’m up in the air, away from the noise of the land. He doesn’t talk back to me, but his voice echoes through the people and places and lives he influenced while he was able to.

To all of my friends and family, I wish you all long and healthy lives.

To my dad, I miss you. I love you.