It is over. The three boys Gilad, Naftali and Eyal have been found, albeit not alive. And although we all feared this outcome, it still hit hard.
And I am having this love-hate relationship with social media right now. On the one hand, I am checking it incessantly, looking for more updates, watching the funeral and mostly looking for comfort, something to hold on to. On the other hand I am disgusted by the media circus- the incessant updates, the cameras in the grieving parents faces, everyone weighing in and feeling the need to blog and pontificate how they feel and what should be done. Maybe I am no better. After all, here I am blogging too.
But I do not claim to know anything, to have words of comfort. I am just here, trying to make sense of my heavy heart. Resentful of the intrusive media coverage but also thankful for it because it enabled me to watch the funeral from thousands of miles away.
And sad. And yet, as if I cannot stop myself, I find myself going back. To Facebook, Times of Israel and other sites too, hoping I will read something that will help me, be a balm.
And I realize I am trying to escape myself, my pain. Trying to do something, anything, just to distract myself and get away from it, not to feel it. We are so uncomfortable with feelings and discomfort, so we turn outwards to distract ourselves. In yoga and practices of mindfulness, there is a concept of leaning into the discomfort, just being with the pain. For ten seconds one day and maybe a little longer the next. So I am going to try and do that. Turn off the constant updates and social media and just be with the pain, with the realization that we have sustained a heavy loss. That we are a nation united yet so alone on the world stage. That we are hated and people wish us dead. That there are no easy political answers, strategies or solutions.
And also to know that the only way to counter darkness and hate is with light. Amid the pain and darkness we all feel, we need to try to find a way to spread light again. That is the only way forward.
ומחה ה דמעה מעל כל פנים
Showing posts with label loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label loss. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
For Ayelet
Why is it that you only appreciate what you have when confronted with loss?
We woke up yesterday morning to the sad news that little Ayelet Galena had passed away in the early hours of the morning. It was a shock and I have spent the last two days quietly mourning and reflecting on Ayelet and her incredible parents.
The truth is, I woke up on Tuesday feeling sorry for myself. It was the day of Y's annual IEP meeting. While we usually discuss how far he has come, most of the meeting is spent discussing new goals and how far he still has to go. But my little pity part was cut short when I read the news. How can I complain when I have four healthy children? Healthy enough to make messes, throw tantrums and blast Uncle Moishy at 5 45 am.
And yes I should be feeling that every day, but it gets lost amid the lack of sleep and the children who seem to be intent on stepping on my every last nerve and seeing how far they can push. This was a stark reminder of all my blessings, one that I probably needed.
My husband and I went to the funeral today. It was very sad but also very moving. There is something really powerful to be united in this way with hundreds (we estimate about 750 but it is hard to know) of people. We were all there together, to show support for Hindy and Seth, to comfort and be comforted.
And through the tears I also laughed at some of Hindy and Seth's comments but mostly I was inspired. Do you know that through the bone marrow drives that were held for Ayelet, a staggering 21 matches were found? This little two year old girl has been the conduit for saving all these lives. Her facebook group and blog inspired so many of us to pray, do good deeds and work on ourselves. She truly was a light and an inspiration.
If a two year old can bring out so much good and create so much light, who knows what our true potential is.
So I have been thinking a lot these past few days. Mourning this tremendous loss, feeling her family's pain while also appreciating the blessings I have and contemplating every individual's potential to accomplish so much.
Let us all resolve to spread a little bit more light. May her memory be for a blessing.
We woke up yesterday morning to the sad news that little Ayelet Galena had passed away in the early hours of the morning. It was a shock and I have spent the last two days quietly mourning and reflecting on Ayelet and her incredible parents.
The truth is, I woke up on Tuesday feeling sorry for myself. It was the day of Y's annual IEP meeting. While we usually discuss how far he has come, most of the meeting is spent discussing new goals and how far he still has to go. But my little pity part was cut short when I read the news. How can I complain when I have four healthy children? Healthy enough to make messes, throw tantrums and blast Uncle Moishy at 5 45 am.
And yes I should be feeling that every day, but it gets lost amid the lack of sleep and the children who seem to be intent on stepping on my every last nerve and seeing how far they can push. This was a stark reminder of all my blessings, one that I probably needed.
My husband and I went to the funeral today. It was very sad but also very moving. There is something really powerful to be united in this way with hundreds (we estimate about 750 but it is hard to know) of people. We were all there together, to show support for Hindy and Seth, to comfort and be comforted.
And through the tears I also laughed at some of Hindy and Seth's comments but mostly I was inspired. Do you know that through the bone marrow drives that were held for Ayelet, a staggering 21 matches were found? This little two year old girl has been the conduit for saving all these lives. Her facebook group and blog inspired so many of us to pray, do good deeds and work on ourselves. She truly was a light and an inspiration.
If a two year old can bring out so much good and create so much light, who knows what our true potential is.
So I have been thinking a lot these past few days. Mourning this tremendous loss, feeling her family's pain while also appreciating the blessings I have and contemplating every individual's potential to accomplish so much.
Let us all resolve to spread a little bit more light. May her memory be for a blessing.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
The Loss of a Gadol
Yesterday, the Jewish world sustained another big loss with the sudden death of Rav Nosson Tzvi Finkel, Rosh Yeshiva of the Mir Yeshiva in Jerusalem. Having had no personal connection to him, I cannot possibly do justice to speaking about such a great individual, so please take my words with a grain of salt.
Vos iz neias has a good synopsis of his life and the impact he had on the world of Jewish learning. The Yeshiva World has some amazing pictures and coverage from the funeral that was attended by an estimated 100, 000 people. Someone even created an entry for him on Wikipedia....I wonder if that is the true measure of someone being important- kidding!
When trying to think of any way to make this loss more personal, I realized that my brother and brothers in law learned in the Mir Yeshiva. My husband spent time learning in a kollel that was an off-shoot of the Mir, so we have all been affected by his vision. I also remembered that Rav Finkel had actually officiated at my sister's wedding a few years ago. It was Lag Ba'Omer, a busy day for weddings on the Jewish calendar and we were told that the wedding ceremony had to start on time because Rav Finkel had four other weddings to attend that evening.
When it was time for the chuppah to begin, I have to say I was a bit taken aback. It was my first time seeing someone with severe Parkinson's perform a wedding and it was not an easy thing to watch. His body was shaking uncontrollably and he struggled to say the words. At the time, I felt badly for him. I wondered how someone could ask somebody so obviously ill to inconvenience himself and officiate at a wedding when he was struggling so much. I could not believe that this man was planning to perform this feat four more times that same evening. It seemed like an unfair imposition and request on behalf of the wedding couples.
But the more I read about Rav Finkel over the last day and a half, the more I started to understand. Even though Rabbi Finkel was a sick man, he did not let this define him. He refused to take pain medication so that his mind would be lucid and he could learn. His door was always open to students of the yeshiva and he made it his business to know as many of them personally as he could. Unbelievably, he traveled all over the world to raise funds for the Yeshiva. And he did all this with a smile on his face, always looking for ways to give to others.
I realize now (two years too late but better late than never) that the discomfort was all mine, that I was projecting my feelings onto him. Though it may be hard for me to comprehend this level of selflessness, there was nothing the Rosh Yeshiva wanted more on that day than to bring joy to all these brides and grooms by giving them the honor of officiating at their weddings (well maybe to learn Torah, but that is a different discussion). He was willing to travel all around Jerusalem and go through this process several times, all for the benefit of others. It is a humbling thought.
In our "Me"-generation we cannot even fathom that someone could be so focused on others. With the loss of so many of our great leaders over the past few months, one cannot help but wonder if this generation is even capable of producing amazing leaders of that same caliber.
If the answer is no, the loss is truly staggering. Yehi Zichro Baruch.
Vos iz neias has a good synopsis of his life and the impact he had on the world of Jewish learning. The Yeshiva World has some amazing pictures and coverage from the funeral that was attended by an estimated 100, 000 people. Someone even created an entry for him on Wikipedia....I wonder if that is the true measure of someone being important- kidding!
When trying to think of any way to make this loss more personal, I realized that my brother and brothers in law learned in the Mir Yeshiva. My husband spent time learning in a kollel that was an off-shoot of the Mir, so we have all been affected by his vision. I also remembered that Rav Finkel had actually officiated at my sister's wedding a few years ago. It was Lag Ba'Omer, a busy day for weddings on the Jewish calendar and we were told that the wedding ceremony had to start on time because Rav Finkel had four other weddings to attend that evening.
When it was time for the chuppah to begin, I have to say I was a bit taken aback. It was my first time seeing someone with severe Parkinson's perform a wedding and it was not an easy thing to watch. His body was shaking uncontrollably and he struggled to say the words. At the time, I felt badly for him. I wondered how someone could ask somebody so obviously ill to inconvenience himself and officiate at a wedding when he was struggling so much. I could not believe that this man was planning to perform this feat four more times that same evening. It seemed like an unfair imposition and request on behalf of the wedding couples.
But the more I read about Rav Finkel over the last day and a half, the more I started to understand. Even though Rabbi Finkel was a sick man, he did not let this define him. He refused to take pain medication so that his mind would be lucid and he could learn. His door was always open to students of the yeshiva and he made it his business to know as many of them personally as he could. Unbelievably, he traveled all over the world to raise funds for the Yeshiva. And he did all this with a smile on his face, always looking for ways to give to others.
I realize now (two years too late but better late than never) that the discomfort was all mine, that I was projecting my feelings onto him. Though it may be hard for me to comprehend this level of selflessness, there was nothing the Rosh Yeshiva wanted more on that day than to bring joy to all these brides and grooms by giving them the honor of officiating at their weddings (well maybe to learn Torah, but that is a different discussion). He was willing to travel all around Jerusalem and go through this process several times, all for the benefit of others. It is a humbling thought.
In our "Me"-generation we cannot even fathom that someone could be so focused on others. With the loss of so many of our great leaders over the past few months, one cannot help but wonder if this generation is even capable of producing amazing leaders of that same caliber.
If the answer is no, the loss is truly staggering. Yehi Zichro Baruch.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Childbirth and Loss
In the recent edition of DONA's quarterly magazine International Doula, there were two interesting articles that dealt with miscarriages and stillbirth. Both writers spoke of their experiences as mothers, dealing with the loss of a pregnancy or a child and how it connected to their work as doulas. The articles struck a cord with me because I have often thought about the interface between pregnancy/childbirth and loss.
Fortunately, most pregnancies and births run smoothly without too much going awry and so the work as a doula is really to be with women and their partners at a joyful time. But there will always be that time when things go wrong and we need to know how to deal with that.
The level of loss can be very different. While some may scoff at it, some woman profoundly feel the loss of the perfect birth they envisioned, whether that was an intervention free birth, a VBAC or a homebirth. More significantly, there is the loss of a pregnancy at an early or a later stage. There is the loss of the dream of the perfect healthy child, that my husband and I experienced personally when our oldest was born with Down syndrome. And, most terrifyingly, the loss of a newborn child.
I am not trying to make a list of all the things that can go wrong. I am sure nobody needs that anxiety and no one should spend their pregnancy worrying about worst-case scenarios. As a birth professional, though,I do need to acknowledge this reality.
I think what is most jarring at these times, is that the couple is expecting pure unadulterated happiness and then that picture was altered in some way. There are so many hopes and dreams bound up with the creation of a new life and it is very hard when this is shattered. Especially when everywhere you look you see women having healthy pregnancies, births and babies, all the things you were yearning for.
I think what is most crucial for doulas at that time is just to be there for the woman. To hear her pain, to allow her to express it and to validate her feelings. So many of us are uncomfortable when others are hurting and so we try to make it better by denying their feelings or offering platitudes such as "you will feel better in a few days" or "you will have another one soon." That may or may not be true. What is true is the pain the woman is feeling at this moment.
Going through that stage of mourning in whatever way is meaningful to the woman and her partner is the only way to get through an intense experience like that. To truly express one's feelings until one is ready to move on. It may take a few days, weeks or months. It may take a year. It is not up to us to dictate when it is time for someone else to "get over it".
I find that my personal experience of loss has been a big source of growth for me. I have learned to deal with difficult things and keep going. There are days, though, when no matter how much I love and cherish my son, I still mourn for my perfect child that could have been. It is a process.
I have also gained a lot of empathy for others. When I, unfortunately, hear of a tragedy, I can tap into my own feelings of loss and, in a small way, understand what someone else is going through. I think these emotions are important to understand my clients and to truly be there for them in a meaningful way.
What I am trying to say is that loss is as much a part of our life experience and life cycle, as birth and growth is, and we need to acknowledge that. And maybe our understanding of pain and loss can make the experience of a new life even more meaningful to us.
On that happy note, have a wonderful shabbos.
Fortunately, most pregnancies and births run smoothly without too much going awry and so the work as a doula is really to be with women and their partners at a joyful time. But there will always be that time when things go wrong and we need to know how to deal with that.
The level of loss can be very different. While some may scoff at it, some woman profoundly feel the loss of the perfect birth they envisioned, whether that was an intervention free birth, a VBAC or a homebirth. More significantly, there is the loss of a pregnancy at an early or a later stage. There is the loss of the dream of the perfect healthy child, that my husband and I experienced personally when our oldest was born with Down syndrome. And, most terrifyingly, the loss of a newborn child.
I am not trying to make a list of all the things that can go wrong. I am sure nobody needs that anxiety and no one should spend their pregnancy worrying about worst-case scenarios. As a birth professional, though,I do need to acknowledge this reality.
I think what is most jarring at these times, is that the couple is expecting pure unadulterated happiness and then that picture was altered in some way. There are so many hopes and dreams bound up with the creation of a new life and it is very hard when this is shattered. Especially when everywhere you look you see women having healthy pregnancies, births and babies, all the things you were yearning for.
I think what is most crucial for doulas at that time is just to be there for the woman. To hear her pain, to allow her to express it and to validate her feelings. So many of us are uncomfortable when others are hurting and so we try to make it better by denying their feelings or offering platitudes such as "you will feel better in a few days" or "you will have another one soon." That may or may not be true. What is true is the pain the woman is feeling at this moment.
Going through that stage of mourning in whatever way is meaningful to the woman and her partner is the only way to get through an intense experience like that. To truly express one's feelings until one is ready to move on. It may take a few days, weeks or months. It may take a year. It is not up to us to dictate when it is time for someone else to "get over it".
I find that my personal experience of loss has been a big source of growth for me. I have learned to deal with difficult things and keep going. There are days, though, when no matter how much I love and cherish my son, I still mourn for my perfect child that could have been. It is a process.
I have also gained a lot of empathy for others. When I, unfortunately, hear of a tragedy, I can tap into my own feelings of loss and, in a small way, understand what someone else is going through. I think these emotions are important to understand my clients and to truly be there for them in a meaningful way.
What I am trying to say is that loss is as much a part of our life experience and life cycle, as birth and growth is, and we need to acknowledge that. And maybe our understanding of pain and loss can make the experience of a new life even more meaningful to us.
On that happy note, have a wonderful shabbos.
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