A friend writes:
My father died on 14th of shvat, after a year of declining health (renal failure–he’d been on dialysis for a little over a year). Never a great time, but it was definitely his time.Sorry about the freakout. My father’s death has unleashed all kinds of fears and neuroses about parenting and earning a living. He was a marginally employed teacher and writer, and we grew up fairly poor, so the thought that anything could threaten my job led to tremendous amount of stress (exacerbated by the fact that I had a meeting with the boss today–it wasn’t about anything involving me, but I have this fear (see above about my father) of meetings with superiors, and I always assume a worst case scenario. Anyway, I’m still emotionally fragile (chances are if you were here right now, you’d get some play from me if you offered to comfort me). …Let me, guess, she’s one of these gentile women who’s captivated by ethnically Jewish men, and you haven’t broken it to her yet that you weren’t born of the Tribe. Do you throw in a lot of Yiddishisms and talk about your Uncle Bernie in the schmatte trade? …Again, I’m really sorry to be such a pain, but I’m super-stressed, and helping me out should definitely entitle you to some sort of free sins (but keep out of the big ones, just to be on the safe side). Honestly, Luke I can only play my father dying card for so long. If this matter doesn’t get resolved soon, how will I convince you? …You are probably one of the few people who can appreciate how much joy I derived when I read about Kevin Strom.
