I don't even know what to say

(Well, I guess I do, I'm a blogger...)

Our dear friend, Peter Azoff, passed away suddenly, unexpectedly, and tragically on Tuesday. He was 48 years old.

Peter's wife Nicki is one of my best friends. Their son Max is one of Sam's best friends - the two boys go to summer camp together. Their daughter Gavi is a little less than a year older than Micah, and Sofia gets all Gavi's hand-me-downs. And Peter and David were good friends.

And their family has been through so much already. Peter's mother passed away a year ago. Nicki's brother passed away two years ago, and her father, three years ago. And they lost a baby at birth.

This has been a very very very hard week. We heard the news Tuesday night, as David and I were plunging into post-Passover transition mode. I'm still walking around boxes in my kitchen.

I was at their house all day Wednesday and most of Thursday. We have a "shiva crew" of close friends, and we are all getting way too skilled at running shiva in Nicki's house. ENOUGH!

The service was Friday. It took a long time (Jewish funerals are usually within 24 hours of death) because of the autopsy. Sam came with us to the service, but Micah did not want to go. David was a pallbearer and gave one of the eulogies; I sang the memorial prayer. Sam was a trooper. It was good for Max (and for Nicki's nephew Kevin) to have him there.

So I was at the house most of the weekend. It was very sad. Everyone is saying "How could I have missed it?", so the rabbi did address the facts during the memorial service. Mental Illness is terrible, and can be so completely hidden away.

They only sat shiva through Sunday. Now comes the really hard part, continuing on with their lives.

They are surrounded by loving family and a loving community. We must must must continue to care for them as the weeks and months go by.

Baruch Dayan HaEmet - Blessed is the True Judge.