I am angry. No doubt about it. I have even spoken with several rabbis re that anger. It is there, a great big elephant in the living room of my heart and soul. It is a huge lump in my throat and a constant voice in my head shouting words of anger, questions of confusion, at the One who is supposed to hear our prayers, feel our needs, and answer with positive replies. Yes, there are times we get a negative answer, but at least there are points of justification, but where is justification for a death of a 13 year old boy, a true golden boy, one who inspired even adults to push themselves, to become better people? There is none and all attempts to explain this death away are useless against the anger. Will it ever dissipate? I hope so. I truly do, though honestly, I cannot foresee a complete erasure for always a bit of it will remain. Forever.
When I look around, seeking to disappear into something to relieve my mind, lighten the burden of this anger, this irreplaceable loss, all I find are more scenes inciting despair and I wonder, when the hell will the One Above ever return from vacation. Is the divine cell phone on mute, airplane mode, shut off completely? Does He not hear the cries of His people, caught once again in a maelstrom of hate, of antagonism, of a battle for their very lives? Once again, the ugliness of Jew hatred, disguised with a more polite term of antisemitism, a thin, poor disguise, rises to the surface, bold and open - and approved by too many.
Mayhem, violence, growing uncertainty, and for sure, a terrible growth of fear, a sense of grief that once again we find ourselves alone in a frightening reality, a world with no heart and a blackened soul. Any attempt to defend ourselves, to push for justice, is spit upon, demeaned, debased and delegitimized. Antisemitism, increased by 337% since the monstrous massacre of Oct 7. on top of the already alarming rise prior to that infamous day and deepens. Israel's attempts to destroy the soulless enemy who desires the death of all Jews, to rescue the hostages brutally kidnapped, subjected to physical and emotional torture, to starvation, children and elderly as well, are despised and belittled, conflated with islamophobia without exception.
It is ironic that movies and all media presentations of Holocaust related topics are growing in favor and attendance is strong. The truth of active, in your face antisemitism, its current reality, never bothers those who coo and praise these movies. Not seen is the glaring, blinding truth, that the ugliness, the truth, of these movies are right here. Now. With a deadly forecast of good weather for its growth. Many wish to emulate that family in The Zone of Interest, that sweet, complacent, proud family, deaf to the cries from over the garden wall, blind to the maimed and scent not the smell of hate, the reek of mistreatment, the odor of burning human flesh, smug, secure in their prize and societal approval. The parallel, so blatant, is unseen or willfully ignored, even praised behind closed doors, ever opening doors and windows to free that hate and violence, that inhumanity to fly free once again.
Once again we Jews find ourselves thinking, wondering, should we have our go bags ready. Some of us do, but the larger question is where do we go? Apparently, the world has united in one realm - that of hatred of Jews and their ever-apparent guilt for all wrongs of the world. Where, then, is refuge? Even Israel is no sure answer, for those howling voices demanding the genocide of Jewry grow louder and louder, more vociferous and approved.
Hence the fear and uncertainty within Jewish communities round the world. Hence those Jews who forget they are part and parcel of Jewry, and they too will be out in the storm of hatred directed at Jews, No exceptions.
However, we will take comfort as we have been there, done that, enough times throughout the millennia and know we will survive. Somehow, G-d finally, always, returns from one of His frequent, ill-timed vacations and responds to the cries and needs of His people. We have been exiled before and we have returned before. We will always hold that Promised Land, our Homeland, deep within, through troubles and prosperity. To that land we will return and rebuild. No matter what. That is a nation's note of comfort through the ages. Maybe even more so now as peering into our rear- view mirrors we see a tailing shadow, growing ever closer and clearer, a shadow replete with hope, with a brightness shedding goodness and faith upon all before it. That is a note of comfort for us.
The personal note or sign or hope is a personal one to the family. The cardinal has long been a favorite bird for us. It seems to find us wherever we are, be it on a birdwatching trek of Yitzy or simply to fly into some tree or garden where we are.
When my father died, a cardinal appeared in the front garden of my daughter's home, directly in front of where my mother would sit and gaze out the window. Every day it sent my mom a message from the love of her life, an assurance that he was there for her and awaited her - always and forever. Sure enough a few days after she died, there were two cardinals, always together, one, the bigger one flying protectively alongside. Always together, For eternity. Two souls forever entwined in goodness and love.
Now our Yitzy has been stolen away from us. We are bereft, in deep overwhelming grief. No relief in sight. The day before we left to return home, Gerry and I saw a cardinal, flying right before our eyes. That night my mother came to me in a dream and told me that Yitzy was with them now, together, already warmly enveloped within the love of all who greeted him.
Comfort to me, to all of us as far as its note of comfort can go at this time of sharp and painful, cutting grief. But there it is and here I gratefully welcome it. Coincidence? We believe not, for once, yes, twice, maybe, but again - Nope. Not coincidence but rather a note of desperately needed comfort.
Yitzy, we so love you, so miss you, but ae comforted that you are not alone.
You are always loved and always with us.
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