Wednesday, November 23, 2005
I missed my Grandfather's yarzheit this year. It was the first one I've missed since he passed away four years ago. At yarzheit, my family makes the trek up to Grand Rapids to place stones at his grave for each of his children and all of their husbands/wives and grandchildren. It is always quiet at the cemetary. We fill it on those days with laughter and even hot chocolate. Tonight, on my way home, I returned the two phone calls I'd received from my uncle Dimitri in Chicago. In short, he offered to help me find a job. When I told him I appreciated his help, he said, "we're family". And he had noticed I was not at the yarzheit. And he wondered how I was. And about an hour after I got off the phone with him, I started crying. Because it doesn't matter if he helps me get a job or not. It doesn't matter, because we're family. I'd just like to thank him for reminding me of that.