Good morning, I woke up later than usual today and it is late for me to be writing a blog. In addition, my head, my heart, my soul, are swirling around, tinged all over with huge areas of sadness, depression and a deep confusion as to how we, the world, have become so enmeshed in filth and violent ugliness. People lose whatever humanity, whatever constrictions decency had upon them, and indulge, wallow, in the worst of the worst thoughts and deeds.
And the world buys into this, covertly and overtly, complicit in the crimes being committed, these violations of humanity. How they can sleep while the fate of the hostages, if even alive and if so, what is their condition after 3 months of brutality, starvation, rapes, beatings, mental and physical abuse as they sit in the darkness, alone, or are held in homes of "innocent" civilians - of which there are truly none. Not a one.
The agony of the captives, the unbearable state of being of members of their families - mesh with my personal agony and at times I cannot breathe. Yes, people will say, talk to someone, but whom? How can I converse with one who does not understand the components, the awful symbiosis taken root. However, I am on a road if not to complete recovery, for the loss, the absence of Yitzy is forever, but rather to a situation or level where I can breathe, when my thoughts are not only aligned, or directed to, focused upon the two disasters in my life at present. Plans of outside activities and a return to the hobbies in my life, to some laughter are increasing.
All with one caveat. How can I ever reconcile with a G-d who is supposed to protect His people, certainly the children and yet He has not. He has been absent, yet again. Even as the worst pogrom since the Holocaust took place, continues with its horrid aftermath, threatened by its perpetrators to constant repetition what can I say? What can I understand? Are we not entitled to live lives of productivity, of love, in peace, with our families without animals descending upon us, rabid packs of wolves who delight in the destruction of their prey?!
The concurrent, resultant grief on two tracks of deep sadness is a difficult grief to overcome. But I am trying, and I am succeeding to a degree. I have brave people before me who have withstood overwhelming grief or are fighting their way out of its smothering hold. My son and daughter are heroes to me, their children going to unbelievable lengths to support them even as they deal with the loss of their beloved brother.
There remains for me a sense of abandonment, for where was G-d as we called on Him, desperately, hanging on by a thread, begging to heal that so deserving child, one who accepted his own death, at 13, before he even lived, all because he believed this was the wish of his G-d. I still cry at his depth of faith and wonder, wish to emulate that faith, but first - the anger. That anger must be at a level wherein a sane discussion can take place. But not yet. Not yet.
Alongside is the anger and sense of abandonment of His people, once again, as He watches from His Seat of Glory, as they were brutalized, treated as war booty, held over the heads of the Israeli army. Worse, unbelievably having the rest of the world forget them as they whine, these "innocent" civilians who hold their own captives, for three months of lack of water, food, electric - even as a miracle occurs and lo and behold, fed, watered, clean, a miracle of modern times and not to forget that busy dude who appears in so many scenes, the same donkey cart containing the same mattresses, the pictures of Syrian devastation passing as scenes from Gaza.
G-d, speak up. Strike our enemies even as You once did long ago. Even as You saw to the end, so late, of the Holocaust. Even as You remembered Your people and heard their cries. Even as You look down upon the captives, held so brutally, their families in agonies beyond belief, beyond understanding, and the mounting deaths of our best as they fall in battle.
Hear Your People. Take good care of those who have gone before time, when Your help and concern were not soon enough.
And take special regard to Yitzy, so mourned, so missed.
Hugs and kisses, Yitzy, my sweet boy.
Always and forever.
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