Jonathan Novich of Palo Alto, CA sent this email to Shoshana (they’ve been friends since their Princeton days) after Amir was suddenly taken from us.
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Shoshana-
Since Motzai Shabbat, when we heard of the tragedy, Beruria and I have been thinking.
We thought about Amir — gosh, I’ve known him since 1990 — how much he’s grown, how he could “play” on so many levels – from the profound to the profane. I’d see him in shul most mornings (“most” is when I was there). And I admired his passion for life. He reminded me of you when we reconnected. He was studying computers and philosophy and education all in one. Boy, that sounds like something Shoshana could talk about (not necessarily the Computer Science part, actually) – the blending of various disciplines.
And for me it added to my understanding of those characteristics that your parents perhaps nurtured – your vibrancy and zest for life, your tastes for the eclectic. I fondly remember spending 4th of July in DC with you, Uri, and a few others after our sophomore year in college. And that weekend I also learned about that passion – from Uri (we even drove back to NJ together and played a game of Tikken — an arcade game — at a rest stop on the way). Uri walked through the Mall with a set of devil sticks juggling and performing. He was all at once – challenging and warm, thoughtful and deep, complete with a facade just in case.
For me, I connected with Amir in a wonderful way – I remember talking to him on our way back to our house for lunch one Shabbat afternoon, and stepping through time with him – talking about Ramaz, yeshiva, Brown, Salt Lake City, Shiva, and his up-to-the-minute perspective on religion. But the part that touched me most was that he was willing to share with me his dreams and his hopes. I remember thinking how much I wanted it to work out for him. A brief interaction with him after Thanksgiving indicated that things were changing course – but I never had the privilege of learning more – and taking his insights with me.
We are so sorry for your loss, Shoshana. It has been my privilege to know your family – whether it was only a few conversations with your father, a few more with your mother, a weekend with your brother, years of interactions with Amir, and most of all – sharing so much with you.
Amir never shyed away from a solid question – so here’s my best try: there’s a transition from the body of Magid to the Hallel section- it’s short, but in light of these events, it will be difficult for me as well. The question speaks for itself – “How, in light of Amir’s passing, can we really be obligated to praise? Have we not literally been brought from evel to yom tov — mourning to festivity? How can we do it?”
From the Hagaddah:
“Lefichach anachnu chayavim – lehodot, lehallel, leshabayach, lefa’er, leromem, lehader, levarech, lealeh, oo’lkales. Lemi, she’asa, l’a’voteinu velanu, et kol hanisim ha’eleh, hotzianu me’avdut le’cherut, meyagon lesimcha, me’evel liyomtov, oo’me’afelah, le’or gadol, m’shi’bud legualah, venomar lefanav shira chadasha, halleluya!”
“Thus it is our duty to thank, to laud, to praise, to glorify, to exalt, to adore, to bless, to elevate and to honor the One who did all these miracles for our fathers and for us. He took us from slavery to freedom, from sorrow to joy, and from mourning to festivity, and from deep darkness to great light and from bondage to redemption. Let us therefore recite before Him Halleluyah, Praise G-d!”
HaMakom yinachem otach betoch sh’ar avelei tzion veyrushalayim.
Best to you, your mother, and brother-
-Jonathan and Beruria