Dedicated to Dr Richard Berkowitz 1934-2021

Always show more kindness than seems necessary
because the person receiving it needs it more than
you will ever know.
—Colin Powell, US Secretary of State

Nothing much matters to a 10-year-old
living in fear of failure and bullies and the
Cuban Missile Crisis that eclipsed the
sunlight of my childhood. I’d hurry home
at the end of school, hide in my room, 
cry my eyes out, wish the world away.

Then you entered my life. You moved
your family four houses away, unpacked 
your bags of kindness. Your gentle voice,
humor, and humility became part of my
world, too, changing my frame of mind.

I had a place to go where I’d feel at home,
free of fear of others. You helped to heal
invisible wounds, and as you made your way
through medical school,  treated me 
for minor wounds as well, like the time

you came over my house to examine my 
toe. I was self-conscious — it was only
a toe. But you were concerned it was hurt,
treated it with care and a bandage, and
doctored my distress — skills that would become

more meaningful with time. I was married in
your backyard. You helped me select music
for my procession, and as my obstetrician,
managed my care with the utmost respect. You
were the first to greet my sons when they entered

this world, cradling them as if they were your own.
You spoke with love at their b’nai mitzvah. You and
your wonderful wife, Barbara, moved far away when
you retired many years ago. That made no difference
in my love for you. Neither will your death.

Your memory will be etched in my heart forever.