I disassembled the tent carefully, but the fabric was coming apart in my hands no matter how gently I handled it. Finally it was all taken down; I turned and sat down on the foam pad that had once been part of the tent's furnishings. I looked at the empty space where the tent had been for so long. It was a shocking sight and I began to cry. This had been hamakom, the place, the cleft in the rock. I said the kaddish for completion. Completing what? Commencing what?