25 years since the wedding of the Rebbe and Rebbetzin 12 Kislev 
I haven’t written for a few months. My health has been weak, and I didn’t have the inclination to write.
This is the month, and particularly the days of the month, that stir many memories for me.
I don’t wish to speak about myself personally, for I was but a very small part of everything that comes to mind and of which I am reminded.
Two days from now, on 14th Kislev, is the 25th anniversary of the wedding of my son, Menachem Mendel, shlita, long and happily may he live together with his wife, tichyeh.
I am reminded of the many upheavals that have occurred during this period, collectively and individually.
While still in his childhood, my son was already an adult. I remind myself of all the years when he was still with us at home, how he did everything with such unassuming simplicity; yet how much greatness and extraordinary beauty, and nobility of character were infused in his actions.
We celebrated [the day of] his wedding in our home. Our hearts were deeply distressed, but we banished the anguish by rejoicing.
Involuntarily, I visualize those seated at the head table. They were people so close to me; some of whom were young people who passed away before their time—the general suffering of our people made victims of them, too.
Oh, how truly beautiful and faithful to each other was their interaction at that celebration. Concerning some of them, I feel a little easier because, after all their sufferings, I know at least where they were interred, whereas, for others, all my efforts to discover where they were buried have been unsuccessful.
I am not alone, and I thank G‑d for the nachas I have. Some of my close relatives have passed on; may they be advocates [in Heaven] on our behalf, and may the life of the one for whom we were celebrating that day be successful in all respects, for long life.