My name is Rachelle Halpern and my only credential for being here is that I am Max’s mom. Max and Kyle met when we lived in Berkeley. They were about, I think, 4 or 5 years old, maybe younger. I was a single mother by that time with two boys. Max started playing Little League. He met Kyle, he met his dad, we met the family. Persis, I believe they were not married yet at that time. And very quickly Max became part of Kyle’s family, and Kyle became part of my family. A few years later, we moved to Orinda, and unlike many other friends from Berkeley who faded away with time, Kyle always stayed with us. Max went on vacations with his dad and his side of the family, and Max went on vacations with Kyle and Sharleen. And I was very grateful. I could never undertake two teens or pre-teens on vacation by myself, so I was very grateful. Instead, as a good Jewish mother, I was happy to feed him. And he was a very gracious and appreciative eater.
I think I want to mention two things that I am particularly grateful to Kyle for. One is that it was with Kyle that Max learned how to be a friend. They went through their different crises together. They were always there for each other. They guarded each other, they guarded each other’s privacy. They supported each other. They protected each other. I never saw Kyle’s jerky teenage side. He was the sweetest, kindest guest I ever had in my house. I have two boys. I have a lot of friends in my house. Kyle was the one who always sought me out when he came to the house, and before disappearing into Max’s room, he always came to give me a hug. He always asked me how I was, he always took a few minutes to talk to just me. And before I knew it, he was like a man. He had big shoulders. He had strong arms. He gave me this wonderful, protective hug. I can’t quite really grasp yet that he is not with us anymore, that he is not among the living. Not even my parents’ death has touched me the way that Kyle’s has. And I know that he will always live in my heart.
Thank you.
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