The Trials of Job

One of the last true legal wars I fought was for Betty. She hired my firm about 6 years ago after a tragic fire at her apartment, where her daughter was killed, and her then 13 year old son was badly burned.

We litigated her case for 2 years, against the landlord. The case was based on his failre to have a working smoke detector in the apartment. After a battle of experts that cost each side hundreds of thousands of dollars, we settled.

Betty's son did remarkably well. He underwent many surgeries to improve his appearance, but blossomed into a fine young man who did well in school and had friends. Betty stayted in touch with our firm, and asked for our help last year about a rental house she had bought which was now in foreclosure.

She felt awful, but we assured her that many people with far greater financial sophistication than she had gotten into trouble in the real estate market. Since the same bank which held her son's settlement funds was the one trying to foreclose on her, we were able to convince them of the public relations nightmare they'd have, and they ended up working things out with Betty and her family.

Alas --the nimbus clouds were still gathering. She called a few months ago to tell us her son was diagnosed with an agressive form of leukemia. He was in the ICU of a children's hospital, and I called Dr. Barry about having him seen by the top guy at Barry's place. Betty ended up keeping her son where he was, and he seemed to be inmproving.

We learned he died Monday. He had just turned 18.

On my way home, alone in my car, I lost it. Hadn't this woman endured enough? She lost her beloved daughter, and lived through the ordeal of her son's debilitation. And now another death?

Betty is flying her son back to South America, to be buried next to his sister. We'll see her when she returns.

We're making a donation in his memory to a local food bank. We're doing all the proper things to grieve with a client.

But what words can anyone share with one who is so bereft? I have no idea.

Rabbi Yossi once told me that when he visits a dying patient, or the patient's family, he just listens, mostly. I guess that's what we'll do, but it will still leave a big hole in our hearts.

Rest in peace, young Roberto. I guess that's all there is to say.