Thursday, December 22, 2005

In Memory of Ben, Z"L
A Series of Vignettes about My Son, Olav Ha Shalom

Alan D. Busch

A Note to Readers: Below please find the current Table of Contents to In Memory of Ben and Chapter 1

Please feel free to comment. Not to worry ... this bereft parent welcomes any and all feedback!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Contents ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Preface: In Memory of Ben

Chapter 1: The Last Time

Chapter 1a: Postscript-A Glimpse at an Earlier and Happier Moment

Chapter 2: Asher Yatzar es Ha Adom B'chochma

Chapter 3: Tattoos

Chapter 4: Diagonals

Chapter 4a: Postscript-A Glimpse Forward in Time

Chapter 5: Lancets, Cotton Balls, Syringes and Insulin

Chapter 6: To Have His Own Place

Chapter 6a: Postscript-Kimberly's Deposition

Chapter 7: Mazel Run Out

Chapter 7a: Postscript to Mazel Run Out

Chapter 8: Evocative of the Presence

Chapter 8a: Postscript-A Moment Forward to Zac's Bar Mitzvah

Chapter 9: Al Ha Nissim

Chapter 9a: Postscript to: Al Ha Nissim- *Rachomim

Chapter 10: Kindergarten Chairs

Chapter 11: Reaching In

Chapter 12: Ben ... Torah

Chapter 13: Choices

Chapter 14: Comforting

Chapter 15: Unhealable

Chapter 16: An Act of Trust and Kindness

Chapter 16a: Postscript to An Act of Trust and Kindness-A Baby's Blue Blanket

Chapter 17: Fractions

Chapter 18: Letter to Ben

Chapter 18a: Addition to Letter of Ben Just Prior to Erev Rosh Ha Shanah, 5766

Chapter 19: Shomer

Chapter 20: An Acrostic about Ben

Chapter 21: Erev Shabbat and The Letter

Chapter 22: A B C (s)

Chapter 23: Bais shel Emes

Chapter 24: Time Passage and Anticipation

Chapter 25: The Tenth Plague

Chapter 26: Mourning's Reflections

Chapter 27: Thanks to My Friends: "Bentzi" and EliDov- Zac's Letter Found

Chapter 28: Shem Tov-A Good Name

Chapter 29: Learning Lessons Late

Chapter 30: Fragments

Chapter 31: Halfway

Chapter 32: " ... Who Endured Illness with Majesty and Grace ..."

Chapter 33: Standing at the Edge

Chapter 34: In a Better Place

Chapter 35: I Wish I Could Have

Chapter 36: How Many Children

Chapter 36a: Kimberly's Comments

Chapter 37: "27"

Chapter 38: Grief Progress Report

Chapter 39: Ben and Zac

Chapter 40: I Was Just Beginning

Chapter 41: The Messenger

Chapter 42: A Blessing, the Ocean, Ben and I

Chapter 43: My Other Children

Chapter 44: Of Late

Chapter 45: Like Father ... Like Son

Chapter 46: No More Pictures

Chapter 47: Reflections on Dr. Gordon Livingston’s Book On Spring

Chapter 48: With Whom I Never Grieved

Chapter 49: Five Years Ago

Chapter 50: Everyday is a Thanksgiving

Chapter 51: Measurement … Memory

Chapter 52: God’s Role

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: The Last Time ...

I believe it was an act of Divine Kindness that I last saw my son Benjamin Wednesday morning, November 22, 2000. Having just left shul to drop off my dry cleaning, I turned around to leave and saw Ben standing just behind me. He had woken up late for work, saw my car parked outside the dry cleaners, and asked me to drive him to the train. It was pretty much like any other morning but with two significant differences: I was pleasantly surprised to see Ben that morning. Why so unusual? First, Ben lived in his mom's house. I had moved out the previous summer. So seeing Ben that morning was a special treat, and secondly ... this was to be our last few moments together. Off we drove to the train but five minutes away. Our last conversation as I recall went something like this:

"How are you, Ben?"
"Fine, Dad. You?"
"Okay. How are you?"
"Good."
"You feeling good?"
"Yup."
( by this time we were right in front of the train station. I pulled over.)
"Do you have money on you?"
"Yes, Dad. See ya later!"
"Be safe!"

and off he went ... I got to work a few minutes later. Seemed like just another day until about 1:30 or so ... when I received a phone call from a man who identified himself as an ER doctor at Cook County Hospital. He told me that Ben had been in a very serious traffic accident, and that I should come down immediately!

Upon arriving, I was rushed into the ER whereupon I saw Ben. They placed me behind a glass partition with a full view of a frenzied team of doctors, nurses and technicians struggling mightily to save my son. Having called my dad on the way down, he arrived soon by my side, choking back the tears and pleading with Ben that he hold on! I subsequently learned that the attending trauma surgeon later testified in a deposition I read that he was worried about my dad witnessing what proved to be futile efforts lest something befall him.

Open heart massage ... failed! Oxygen mask ... failed! Electric shock ... failed!

Moments later, the lead doctor turned to me and sadly shook his head. Ben was gone! He asked me if I wanted to be with him. My dad was taken aside. A curtain was drawn. Whether it be in life or death, and at that particular moment, the transition from one to the other was almost entirely seamless-the dividing line being so thin-that I stood over Ben's face, placed a *kippah upon his head, kissed his handsome nose and repeatedly sang the 23rd Psalm, thanking him for having been such a good son! It was all I knew to do at that moment! We spent about half an hour together that final afternoon, just the two of us, Ben and I.

Soon thereafter, the body had to be moved. My friend Rabbi Louis had arrived just minutes before. Almost as gut retching as watching Ben leave forever was that now Ben's mom had to be told. She had just arrived from work, having had to drive a far greater distance than I. I was led to a room opposite the emergency room where she sat awaiting news. Accompanied by my dad and Rabbi Louis, I approached her. My younger son Zac sat off to his mom's right. Several of Ben's buddies were there too. It was they whom I later learned had brought Zac to the hospital.

"Ben is gone!" I cried out placing my forehead upon the top of her head. Only from a bereaved mother can there be heard such a primal utterance of pain! I shall never forget its sound! Between that horrific moment and my hallway conversation with the lead doctor, I do not know what subsequently happened in that waiting room. I soon thereafter informed the doctor that Ben was a Jew and that I forbad any autopsy. He assured me that he understood. After several hours, only Rabbi Louis and I were left. When there was nothing more that we could do, we left the hospital. We walked together to my truck. I was to drive him home as he had taken a cab to the hospital. Therein we sat. Rabbi Louis called Rabbi Moshe, a chaplain with the Chicago Police Department, to see if he could expedite the transfer of Ben's body from the morgue to the funeral home. When the truck was warm, I drove Rabbi Louis home just a mile or so from my apartment. After that, I remember nothing more of that Wednesday, November 22, 2000 the day before Thanksgiving. I think I fell asleep that night in my apartment!


*Kippah ... a skullcap signifying God's presence overhead.

4 comments:

Stacey said...

My heart aches for your loss. May Ben's memory be a blessing.

Alan aka Avrum ben Avrum said...

Dear Stacey,

Many thanks for your kind words!

Shavua tov and a freiliche Hanukkah!

Alan

Smooth said...

I am so sorry for your loss. The tragedy that you have endured, I just can't imagine it. I know that when my father died, words from friends and neighbors were very comforting. Thank you for sharing your loving tribute to your son.

Alan aka Avrum ben Avrum said...

Dear Smooth,

Thank you very much for your kind words ... I do appreciate them very much! I remain ...

Very Sincerely yours,

Alan D. Busch