Some twenty years ago I had the unfortunate privilege to sit beside the aron of my friend Gail's sister, Alisa Flatow, at her levaya. Alisa was also murdered in Israel by terrorists. I was just about the age of Gil-ad and Naftali. Alisa was about the age of Eyal. I remember staring at that simple pine box draped in the flag of Israel and wondering how my life would ever be the same again. The answer was simple... It would not ever be the same again. I would not ever be the same again.
And here I am, almost twenty years later, gazing from 6,000 miles away upon the bodies of more children murdered for the sin of being a Jew. I am twenty years older but somehow feel none the wiser. I feel lost as I did back then. I am seeking out comfort as I did back then... Hoping beyond hope that I might find some crumb of wisdom that will magically make it all make sense. I looked to my friends comments on Facebook to see if anyone had anything that would help... But all I found there were more lost souls such as mine. People seeking out answers, seeking out comfort. I went to update my own status in an effort to join my nation in our shared grief. The only words I could come up with were עד מתי ה׳, עד מתי???? Until when G-d, until when???
There are no answers, and frankly I pray that we all feel no comfort. We are a nation bereft... And so it should be. I pray that we remain united as a people. I pray that the achdut and unity that was displayed over the last 18 days remains with us. Sadly, I believe that for now, it is only with broken hearts and with those three sweet faces vivid in our collective minds eye that such unity will live on. In galut that's the way it is. We seemingly have only our pain to unite us. Perhaps that is what we should mourn most of all.
I don't know... I just don't know. In some ways these last few weeks have brought to light a feeling of "mi k'amchah Yisrael" ("Who else is like the nation of Israel?") like few other things have... And yet in the pit of my stomach I still have that same unresolvable, lingering question of "ad matai Hashem, ad matai?" And so today I pray not that we be comforted, but that we hold onto our pain, hold onto our grief, and keep the faces of those sweet boys at the forefront of our consciousness! May we clutch closely to our hearts the ache that lives deeply within us so that we might remember, forever, the pain that unites us. May our pain today and the pain of twenty years ago never be forgotten. May we strengthen ourselves and unite amidst the grief, and may we use that commonality to breech the rough waters that often divide our small nation. May the memories of Eyal, Gil-ad and Naftali forever be a blessing, and may they be the inspiration for us all to remain a united people for all of eternity; and in their merit may we all continue to be united in happier times.
