A Second Chance

Last March was even busier than usual. Purim was two weeks away, with all the preparations that entailed; there was a carnival fundraiser and a Maccabi football match I wanted to take my kids to; I was busy managing the youth minyan at the shul; and to top it all off, there was the l’chayim of a close friend who had gotten engaged after many years of dating. As full as my schedule was, there was no way I was going to miss that.

Rachel and I got home from the l’chayim at around midnight. Still exhilarated, I puttered around, getting ready to call it a day. I sat down to go through my e-mails. Rachel was also still up, working in another room, when she heard a thump. Not a loud, alarming crash… just a thump. Still, she got up to investigate.

She found me unconscious — slumped over, eyes closed, iPad lying nearby on the floor where it had slipped from my limp fingers.

Immediately Rachel called an ambulance. While she waited, she noted that I drew occasional breaths. She thought that was a good sign, but it wasn’t; it was literally my last gasp, a final reflex as the body shuts down.