I went to the NY Auto Show today at the Javits Center. When I was there, I saw an orange Honda Element filled with playful kids climbing around in the back and saying how cool the car was. I felt like getting them the hell out of the car, that is how I felt. I sat in the back seat on the right hand side and it was actually around 2 or 3 PM, and I tried to the best of my ability to change time from 3/25/05 2 PM to 3/25/04 2 PM, but I could not do it.

I only received a single call from my dad telling me how he loves me and is thankful to Hashem for my life, and a single email from my mom saying the same thing in her words. To me, this indicates how far I have come, and once again I now feel guilty that the whole thing is so way behind me but it can never be behind the Lopatins.

3/25 is my own miniature 9/11. I am like a guy who fell off a twin tower and landed on a huge pillow, it is so miraculous that I am here now, and I am fine. But the potency of the knowledge of Amir’s death hits me like 9/11.

The interesting thing is, you know how I found out about 9/11? Amir and I lived together on 82nd St. in 2001. I fell asleep on the living room couch watching some DVD on his computer. Amir woke me up at about 9:30 and I heard his voice from his bedroom, “Hey Jon, a plane just crashed into the World Trade Center…”