September | 2020 | The Real New Yorkers

Late September and I am tumbled, humbled, by the Ten Days of Awe. In hours, it will be Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. Will I, or won’t I, be allowed to continue on this planet for another year? TBD, folks. For, as it is written:

On Rosh Hashanah it is inscribed. And on Yom Kippur it is sealed.
How many shall die and how many shall be born
Who shall live and who shall die
Who at the measure of days and who before
Who by fire and who by water
Who by the sword and who by wild beasts
Who by hunger and who by thirst
Who by earthquake and who by plague
Who by strangling and who by stoning
Who shall have rest and who shall go wandering
Who will be tranquil and who shall be harassed
Who shall be at ease and who shall be afflicted
Who shall become poor and who shall become rich
Who shall be brought low and who shall be raised high.

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“Who by plague?” Play this song by Leonard Cohen.

At this time of the year, I think about “big deaths” I have known. There was my dad, Big Mort, an August death eight years ago. Robert Brands, my business collaborator and friend, died in October four years ago. My brother-in-law, David, died one horrible August, forty years ago.

For them, inscription in the Book of Life wasn’t to be. Yes, Dad was old. He survived military combat, lived a long life, but finally succumbed to the ravages of age.

Robert was middle-aged, with years to go, at least one would think. Played hard; worked hard. And his accidental death — taken from this world while in the throes of familial exuberance — a quad-runner crash — was tragic.

David’s death was a slow-motion shit show. Over four years, a horrid and relentless illness kneecapped his promising medical career at thirty-three. His family never recovered from this cruel loss.

Every day since mid-April, I think about David’s mother, my MIL, who died last spring from the “hoax”. That is, Coronavirus. Such an inglorious way to die, alone, in a state of slow suffocation, separated from loved ones.

I take not an hour for granted. I want to grow wiser, and fill my life, every day. We do not know what awaits us around the next corner. “Punch it, Chewy”; step on the gas.