To say I will miss him so understates the scale of what has happened that it mocks the words of their meaning. He took me on late in his life, took me on as an apprentice, understudy, acolyte. He became my guide, my liege, in all matters Israeli and Jewish, and then in all matters of life itself. We met regularly at a vacuous inexpensive carry-out on M Street, each of us eating just a few ounces, as though we were in the Negev, he my Abraham, I his Isaac. And slowly, without expectation or reward, he mentored me, told me gently of what to take on and what not to. Life, ever querulous, simmered and then settled down, so that when I had to leave the city, for good, he said goodbye without ever really saying so, but knowing that he had vested within me the courage to carry on without him.