the shock, horror and grief I endured earlier this spring was merely the trial run.
It turns out to be petty, trivial and inconsequential next to the scale and scope of the loss that came for me and my entire family today. The least that I can say is that he was strong and well-prepared -- fully at peace with where he was heading. And to the greatest extent possible, I was prepared as well, though as I am repeatedly learning, one can never be fully prepared for these things.
His last words to me yesterday were "Is there anything else you'd like to say to me?" and after I said them, he said "Thank you. I'm going to put your grandma on the phone." I last saw him on Saturday, and though he was barely conscious, he smiled when I squeezed his hand.
He taught me the best handshake on Earth.
Burton Arthur Goldberg, April 9, 1924 to May 18, 2010. Father to my mother, profound and consequential man. You taught me how to have a big heart, and also what it means to be strong, wise and generous.
It was a challenge but an honor to be the amanuensis who will furnish his obituary. Look for it in the Times on Thursday.