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Wednesday, October 08, 2003

So Yom Kippur has come and gone. I broke my fast by drinking too much coffee and I can't sleep.

It was August 2000 and Jonathan was planning on killing himself. He gave up his apartment and wrote the suicide notes. And in the last minute, he changed his mind. The whole next year, as each holiday arrived, he would say, "I can't believe its Rosh Hashana and I'm still alive." And then, "I can't believe its Yom Kippur and I'm still alive." I would love to hear those words again.

Yom Kippur 5761 (the secular year 2000) was his last. He always came to visit me on Fridays. He was the Friday before Erev Yom Kippur - which was on a Sunday night. Just like this year. I remember that he didn't have very much money and he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to visit. He used up all his money before he was going die. (When he finally killed himself, he had $5,000.00 in his coat pocket. The exact sum to ship a body to Israel).

By Yom Kippur and he had given up his job and didn't find a new one yet. And he had very little money. But then he realized he had just enough. Just enough to buy a chicken for Kaporos and take the train to visit me.
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