SIGH, ONE DAY, ONE DAY...

 One day, we are told myriad times, there will be peace. The Bible talks numerous times of such days, when peace will reign, when the lions and the lambs will be playmates, when all and sundry recognize the futility of that ugly term and life situation of war. One day the arrogant deliberate ' stupidity' of those who encourage and incite the hate, will be obvious. These animosities always culminating in violence, death, and more, will finally be defeated, rooted out, down to the deepest depths one must reach. 

Only then, digging deep into those roots, finally eliminating them, once and for all, is there a possibility. It must happen, for not to do that means only more hate and consequences. Otherwise, bloodshed and destruction remain, as the seeds always and forever, find a home somewhere, within some twisted soul, and survive, to live again another day and revel in the loss of so many others, countless numbers, for the wicked eddies never stop, constantly widening, extending its borders, drowning more within its fetid waters.

Yesterday, in a mood of sorts, not finding a place for myself, my thoughts and emotions whirling, why, I knew not, so I sat down before the computer and explored a favorite site, the music found on YouTube. There, music to fit any need is to be found and as Prospero stated in The Tempest, music does soothe the soul. At least music not bombastic and rather too loud for a soul seeking relief from something, unnamable, but there. Finding one of my favorites, Koolulam. I found a presentation of   One Day, by Matisyahu, sung repeatedly at graduation ceremonies, at assemblies meant to send out cries of hope, for positive change, replete with emotions of both encouragement and sense of loss. Why have we not yet acted properly, sensibly, loyal to the truth of the yearning of the words, of the melody, of the hope expressed, that One Day, one day, we will not speak of hate and war. One day.   

But yesterday, other words of the lyrics struck me hard, deep within an aching soul and heart, a mourning heart. They spoke directly to me, eerily mirroring an awful, yet inspiring moment. One I wished so fervently never to have occurred.  So   hard, so many tears rolling down the face. Eyes blurry, soul aching, the sense of loss, irremediable, always to a be gap, a wound forever open. 

Powerful emotions, and what to do with them? I called others, equally involved in that moment as I was and we spoke quietly, emotionally, tearfully, of that loss, how to go on with the rest of the day. My rest of that day was tinged, constantly, to differing degrees, with the ever-present sorrow, though I did find some comfort in the emotions, roiling within, leading to the understanding that we, I, were blessed for having known that moment, the years we were granted, short, so short, so deeply, forever, to be treasured. But so, so, so hard. So very difficult. A loss immutably within our cores.   

Before Yitzy passed gently into his final coma, he spoke to his parents of his thoughts at that moment, of his understanding of that moment, along with an unbelievable empathy with what his parents were feeling. His next words eased and intensified the emotions. How could this be? How? How? Our souls cried out and continue to do so, the pain never going away, its sharp blade continuously cutting deep within our hearts. Wondering, with awe, could we ever be as strong as that little boy, an adult, yet a child, as he asked to have a Torah written in his name, a goal we have been blessed to reach with the donations of so many, and we thank them all, as the writing is in progress and associated programs are being planned. A boy strong enough, of deep faith and belief, accepting he had fulfilled his G-d given purpose on earth, and now done, it was time to go home, to be with his G-d. 

Thus Yitzy reassured his parents that he had thought a lot about what was happening to him, and told his parents he was okay, even understood why, though the sadness was there. He was, special as he was, will forever remain, only 13 years old. 13. My heart breaks as I type this. The tears splash endlessly on the keyboard.

His next words broke us all. To please remember him, not forget him - as if, as if! He is forever, always and forever, to remain within us, as we strive to emulate his goodness. Proud to have been granted the zechut, the privilege to be his family for those 13 love filled years. He assured his parents he would always be there with them. 

I cry as I type these words, as I paste in the lyrics of the first verse of the song, for these words, along with the hopes expressed within the song for a better time, for people to be the best they can be, trust that they can indeed do so, be so. I will never again hear this song in the same way.

"Sometimes I lay under the moon
And thank God I'm breathin'
Then I pray, "Don't take me soon
'Cause I am here for a reason." ... 

In this maze
You can lose your way, your way
It might drive you crazy but
Don't let it faze you, no way, no way! ...

One day, one day, one day, oh
One day, one day, one day, oh"

One day, Yitzy, one blessed day.

Always and forever, dear boy, sweet boy, so missed.

Always and forever. Always and forever.