Dear Readers,


Thank you for your support, as always.

"My Dearest Friends"

In these times of emotional stress and upheaval, after suffering the loss of my kallah's love, I



plunged into a deep morass; now mind u, I am no psychologist, but it surely did seem that I was



clinically depressed. Would I tell this to my mother? Of course not! Though I love her dearly,



after all ... she would have insisted upon coming up, started to cook for me, and I ask you, where



then would I be?


Seriously, it got to such a point-this emotional upheaval, this wildly stressful "rollercoaster



ride," that I stepped out on to my driveway one night, walked over to the giant evergreen on



my front lawn, lay my forehead against its roughly-hewn bark and simply began ... weeping.



That's right, a 53 year-old man, standing on his front lawn about 9:30 pm, weeping, then



sobbing .


That was about twenty days after she had left by which time I had become so overwhelmed



with the grief of her absence ... I made a decision, a rather amazing one given my nature. More



incredible was that I was even able to make a decision at all-no less an important one. Simply, I



needed help and soon. In moments such as these it's a brocho to have family and dear friends



close.


"Zac, " I said, "call Rabbi Louis on my phone and let him know I need to see him now. It's an



emergency!"


"Dad, what?" he asked, with a look of great fright on his face.

"Son, just give him a call and that I'll be coming over." I did this -not as a chutzpa, but in


acceptance of Rabbi Louis and Rebbitzen's earlier invitation that I call them if things became too


rough. Well, indeed they had!


"May I speak with Rabbi, please?" Zac inquired.


"The Rabbi's not in now. Who's calling?"


"Oh, Mrs. L. This is Zac. My dad asked me to call."


"Son, may I have the phone for a moment?"


"Hi Sara, this is Alan, may I come over?



"Alan, yes of course," sensing my distress. "Rabbi is speaking with someone right now at the


shul, but he'll be home soon. I'll let him know now to expect u."

"Thank you, Sara. I'll be over shortly." I lumbered over to their home about a block and a half



away. The shul is adjacent. I knocked once.


"Forgive my appearance, Sara," I asked, looking and feeling slovenly. I hadn't tucked in my shirt



or my tzitzis." Wanting to appear somewhat cheery though truth be told I felt as low as I had



the day Ben died.

"Yea, after Tisha b' Av, I shaved off those darn white whiskers. Made me feel so old."


" You look great with or without them, " opined Benzie, the Rabbi and Sara's older son, while he



sat at the dining room table just, it seemed, finishing up dinner. His sister, "T"-as she is



sometimes called- sat across from him nodding in agreement.



"Sara ... "



"Wait. Let me send the kids out of the room."



Before I could open my mouth in strode Rabbi Louis.



I stood up.





Alan D. Busch

8/1/07