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A friend of mine from the other class had his parents murdered last night. BBC has some stuff about it.
I didn't know him all that well, but we were mates; he was never against me despite me being a leftist, he never disrespected me (unlike others), and I really respected him for that. He acted like I'd expect someone decent to act.
I even met his parents once, when we had a school activity. His mother made excellent Pitot and now the two are gone. Sure, I never had someone that close to me die from suiciders' zeal attacks, unlike others on Hatrack. I never actually knew thm, or for that matter their son, that well.
But they're still dead. It hurts no less.
The funeral will be overnight over in Gush Katif. There're buses that are leaving my school in about 3 and a half hours, and there's a plan to stay there overnight. On the one hand, there's the danger of another attack; the danger of the people rampaging there; the danger that someone will start a mob at the funeral; the danger that another wave of fanatics will start firing or that attacks will be made - with everything going on at K'far Maymon; the danger that someone may point out I'm a leftist and something might happen to me; the danger of the buses being under attack; it's especially hard this month over there.
On the other hand, they're a friend's parents. I didn't know them, but still. My father isn't so keen for me to go to the battleground and spend the night there. If it were in Jerusalem, it's one thing; if it's an overnight funeral in a currently dangerous area it's another.
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I am very sorry your friends' parents were killed Jonathon.
That whole area is a powderkeg right now because of the coming withdrawal. Don't be mad if your father forbids you to go to the funeral. I would if you were my son, for your safety.
I hope the funeral is not disrupted by more violence.
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I'm not mad at my father. I understand perfectly well his reasoning. Funerals wre the trigger of the First Intifada, and the big explosion hasn't happened here yet. What happened here was relatively mild.
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Almost certainly not. I spoke to a friend of mine and together we decided it isn't worth it, and it's a little dangerous.
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Thank you, Choobak and Robert... I probably won't see him until September (or maybe I'll see him on the 30th day to his parents' death). I don't even know how to feel - I've faced family deaths in the past, but never was it a brutal murder.
Sure, my friend's sister's friend's friend died on a bus, but it's not someone I've met, not someone whose parent, sibling or daughter I know. In this case, my classmate became an orphan. Worst thing is - this is not the first tragic death of someone closely connected to the school.
I know I'm heavy-hearted. But to think that next year he'll come to school (if he even comes) and there will be no parent-teacher meetings with his parents, that he'll need to live with someone else, that his life was disrupted without notice, without warning, in such a shock.
I don't know if I could live on if such a thing happened to me. I have no idea about what's going on with him, but he's probably going to be on TV tonight...
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I'm sorry for your friend, JH. Why don't you go and visit him at the Sheeva? I think it will lessen your friend's misery if he sees that others care about him.
Isn't it unwise to do a funeral in a place where the graves are going to be removed anyway, though?! There are enough holy Jewish places for burial in Jerusalem - why not there? And what if the grave won't be removed - your friend won't be able to visit his parents' grave, it'll be in Palestinian territory! That's awful.
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I'm so sorry about your friend, JH. It's easy to sometimes look at terrorism with a feeling of detachment, as numbers rather than people. This seems especially easy with countries that have a long history of terrorism, as Israel does. Posts such as yours bring a real face to the evil that terrorism is--it is nothing more than cold-blooded murder, whose victims more often than not have committed no crime other than being born in a certain area to certain parents. I mourn for you, your friend, for his parents, and for your country mixed up in a terrible turmoil and violent strife over differences that, in the end, doesn't really matter. I can only hope and pray that all parties--Jew and Muslim, Israeli and Palestinian, Arab and Hebrew, Sunni and Shi'ite--can one day jointly decide to rise above this madness of killing one another and live in peace. That won't change the fact that your friend's parents lost their lives in vain, but at least it can be certain that his children don't have to live in fear of the same happening to theirs.
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Oh, wow. How horrible that people have to stay away from a funeral for safety reasons.
And I'm sorry for your friend's loss. How old is he? What is going to happen to him? Is he going to be on his own, or does he have relatives to go to?
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It does ram home the message that whatever people's differences are, killing of innocents is never a solution.
I'm sorry for you friend, and for you Jonathon. I have never been in such a position, and hope never to have to face violent death in such shocking reality and closeness.
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Thanks, everyone. I will go visit him on the Shiva, and offer condolence. Can't say I wouldn't do that! But as for tonight, all I can do is watch the news and possibly call a friend or two there.
He is roughly my age - that is 15 y.o., I have no idea, though, what's happening to him, or where will he live; probably an uncle or at his grandparents. Maybe he has a godfather. I don't know. But this must be so hard for him. Heck, I'm despairing, my heart is down at my ankles - he must be devastated. One could use the word "mournful" here, isn't it ironic?
I just hope to see him again next year. His family was opposed to the disengagement plan, and they died at the entrance to the territories. Their graves will probably be there to show that they believe in the land's holiness; in the need to stay there. But in two months' time those graves may be desecrated. Life won't ever be the same; and though I didn't know them, only now do I truly sense the complete horror. I remember when a very nice person in my synagogue died of cancer, I remember when my great aunt left our world 7 years ago at the age of 90-something, I remember that the same year an acquaintance of mine (my age) had his father die in a car crash, I remember when my grandmother passed away a year and a half ago, I remember when my father told me of how students or students' siblings of his died and he saw the parents crying on TV.
But it's not the same when you know that person and suddenly you've got an emotion that you feel in the form of phlegm building up in your throat. Things you don't talk about but radiate and get radiated back at. The wall that builds up, and you simply don't know what to say or what to do. You want to show compassion but don't want to make the person cry and break down, after all the strain put into the effort of rebuilding your feelings.
I just want it to be yesterday. I don't want to face these things next year: not because I'm afraid of facing them, but because it will all include so much emotional agony that just makes you wish nothing would've ever happened.
I could ignore him from that point of view and no-one would ever notice. But that's cheating on myself, that's being a brute. I morally, and in my conscience, have to go and see him this week. I want to tell him how much it hurts me to see any classmate like that, but I don't want to make him feel that I'm trying to show off my pain or that I'm comparing it.
I've never seen him serious. I've never seen him without a smile. I've never seen him not fooling around some way or another. I can't even picture his face sad! His parents murdered, viciously; and I simply don't know how to face him.
But I can't let that stop me. I simply cannot allow it to get to me or make me feel bad. I know I've hot to do something about it. It's going to be hard, it's going to be rough and it's not going to save me any phlegm, but it's going to be one thing I have to face alone; a challenge that I have to pass in order to feel that I've done something good.
But that's what life gives us. And there comes a time where one must act. This is my time.
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What a thing to go through - for him, and for you.
I wish you strength and courage.
Y'know, I remember you being compared to a puppy dog when you first started posting because of your (comparative) youth and eagerness. I thought it was a nice analogy.
I think your reflection and compassion in the face of this horrific tragedy show a great maturity in you. It's horrible you have to face these realities at this point in your life. At 15, you should be allowed to be a puppy a while longer. But I think you're doing really well in dealing with the situation.
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Thanks, imogen. I remember how it was to be a "puppy"; in a way, I still am. But there's no questioning that these things build your character in one way or another. I might have nightmares tonight, for all I know; and I didn't have a nightmare in such a long time...
I just saw the news. Mr Kol was a pacifist. He was a leftist and his wife a rightist, they were celebrating their last Sabbath in Gush Kattif before returning home for good. They didn't put up a wreched fight. They oppressed no damn Palestinian. They didn't deserve to die. They didn't deserve to die. I don't want to think of this, but I can't stop myself.
Life is just tough, and dealing with it is the only thing that we can do. I will need to visit the Kols' place tomorrow or Tuesday.
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I hope I will be able to. But he lives far away and I don't know if anyone can take me there. I don't know what buses to take either, so it's a bit of a case.
I'm sure, however, that one of my parents wouldn't mind taking me. All I've got to do is find out when and how. I've got another 6 days.
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I'm sorry that you live amongst such turmoil and violence. I'm sorry that people near you are dying at the hands of others.
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(((Jonathan))) One of my classmate's fathers was in that plane that went down from Reagan airport back in 1980 or 81, before it was called Reagan. But it wasn't terrorism. But it was this weird mix of something on the news and a personal connection, but not a very personal connection.
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Thanks, everyone. My firend (whom I spent the late afternoon at) asked me whether it's appropriate to go to the Shiva; I told him that I think it would be best, because it would probably make him feel better.
I don't know whether I feel so bad because my friend was on TV (for those reasons), or how much does the murder-part have to do with it. What I know is that mothertree probably felt as bad as I do. The sensation of hopelessness - not knowing what to say, do, or even think. Not knowing the ethical borders of how much sympathy to express. What to say, what to imply, and what to leave unsaid.
I faced ethical questions in the past. But it was never something so tender, so sensitive, something that is emotionally fragile to such an extent that nothing can go wrong. I can only know through experience what needs to be done. Maybe if we go as a pair it will be better. We can give shared support, he can think of us as a kind of a convoy from school, we represent a connection he has to it, except we've come by our own will, no official school-urging.
I still have no idea what clothes to wear. Does anyone have ideas what should I wear to a Shiva?
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Don't wear a funeral suit or only-black clothes. Wear something respectable, dark jeans and a good shirt will do. It's also quite common to bring some sort of catering to a Shiva - a bottle of Coke, or "Ugat Habait".
Don't start talking about what happened. Just be there with him. He probably won't talk about it much. Don't be surprised if he laughs with you and talks about casual things. Cooperate with him. It'll make him feel better.
I think it's a good idea for you to go together with a friend - it will make things less awkward.
*has attended too many Shivas*
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Mmm... A striped (buttoned) shirt (I've got a blue one too) tucked into elegant blue pants? I guess that will do?
And thanks for the advice... I'm sorry you attend many Shivas, but I'm grateful that you have experience dealing with these things.
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Beanny is correct. The conversation should be led by the mourner(s). If he (they) wish to discuss the deceased, they will; if not, let them talk about whatever they want.
And going in pairs or small groups is also a good idea.
And when you leave, you wish all the mourners המקום ינחם . . .
The other thing to be aware of -- and NOT everyone has this custom, so perhaps you can ask around -- is that some people reserve the first 2-3 days of shiva for visits from relatives, especially if there are many. (This is not done, for instance, when the mourners are the sole survivors of a family.)
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Thank you, Rivka. I have noted it all, and will speak to my friend about it too. As this will be the third day (tomorrow), I think we can safely go.
Wait, that is assuming that Sunday (funeral) counts as Day One, not Day Zero - is it actually calculated so?
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Yes, the day of the funeral is day one. And only a very short part of day seven is usually "sat."
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Horrible news, a real tragedy for your friend and all those who know the family.
My daughter had a friend who lost both of his parents at Mecca when they were trampled to dealth. The boy really needed his friends and classmates to laugh with, cry with, and just be with him during this disorienting time of change. I hope you will see your friend very soon.
My thoughts and prayers are with you and your friend.
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I'm sure it will. It's night here, but in the morning I have to finish getting this place ready so my mom and her sisters can sit shiva here staring in the afternoon.
May we only know simchas!
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Back... It went alright. I said "hi" to about a dozen people I know, but as I was one of the less-connected people to him, I didn't speak much. I didn't have much to speak about, nor did my friends who came.
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There's not much you can do, Raia. You couldn't bring them back and save the bitter feelings, but I guess those feelings are a bit over after I went there. You've had a similar experience, except it was your cousin, whom you knew. To me, the murdered couple are two innocent, brilliant people I just heard about in stories someone told us today.
I will e-mail you if there's something you can do. But don't expect mail about that... I doubt there's much, if anything that possible to be done.
But thanks for the offer.
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It's good that you visited him. Although you didn't feel a part of that group, I'm sure your friend appreciated your presence.
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I know many of those people, but not from the same circles he does, so it as basically a smile, "hi" (hugs would have ben too inappropriate for the occasion), and I did feel a bit of the group. The people who spoke spoke of the dead couple in enough of a general way for everyone to understand.
But thanks for the delicate words. And thank you too, Rivka.
Oh, and I was the only kid there in a buttond shirt. But that's okay, they're used to me dressing up well before going. I had a friend in a T-shirt, and the third one in a sleeveless singlet. But no-one made a fuss, no-one makes a fuss in these times (though I personally find it inappropriate for me to go out in public with my armpits showing). Just as a tiny note on the clothing, since I wasn't too sure about what-to-wear.
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Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me.
O, well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O, well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay!
And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!
Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.
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I didn't say anything about buttoned shirts so hey...but I think that it is really dumb going to a Shiva with your armpits showing. Besides, what do you care? You went like a young adult would have gone to a Shiva.
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Eh, well, clothing was not the thing those people had in mind. I wear T-shirts all the time, and in the house I'm usually topless. But going out to a Bar/t-mitzvah, wedding, Brit or Shiva is something of more formality.
Sometimes tucked it, sometimes not; depends on the shirt. But I would never go to my synagogue wearing khaki pants, sandals and a golf-shirt with stains. Especially when I almost run the place.