One of the first people to help me understand my father’s documents was a man named Alex Bauer, a friend of my in-laws and a lovely man from Hungary. He died last year, after a long and full life, and he was so loved that there were shiva minyanim at two synagogues full of people who had nothing but good things to say about him.
Today, I was looking up someone else in my address book, and his name was in my phone book again. Some glitch of the cloud, perhaps. So I deleted his name all over again, and cried.