It has been almost 3 hours now that I’ve been reading most if not all of the stories and memories about Amir. I feel that I can’t internalize what happened. Especially since I haven’t seen Amir in a while now…so the fact that I don’t hear from him is normal. It doesn’t mean that something horrifying just happened. Thinking about Amir in past tense doesn’t make any sense to me. It all seems to be a big mistake.
I had the privilege to work with Amir when I lived in NYC 2.5 years ago. I was his Israeli friend. Ever since I’ve heard about the accident, my brain has been flooded with memories of him, and I have so many of them.
Amir is one of the most curious, funny, genuine people I know. His enthusiasm for life was endless.
I used to have an English-Hebrew-English dictionary that both of us used. Me, trying to find a lost word in English and Amir, not giving up the idea that we should speak Hebrew to one another. No matter how hard it is. Since most of his Hebrew was kind of ‘biblical’ one, he wrote himself a contemporary dictionary that contained slang and more up to date phrases. He wanted to pass as an Israeli and practiced the ‘rough’ accent…
I remember he had a green IDF (Israel Defense Forces – TZAHAL) t-shirt he was wearing, asking me if he looks like he had been to the army. Oh, how much he loved asking me about the army service.
I can’t think of Amir without smiling. He was always making me laugh with his stories, thoughts and crazy ideas. That was what made him so special. It still does.
In Hebrew there is a saying – ‘Bemoto Tziva Lanu et Ha’chaim’ which means ‘In his death he ordered us on keep living’. I presume myself to think, Amir would want that.
Shelly.