In the winter, in
Scotland, daylight comes late and fades early. On a January day, two
years ago, it seemed as if the light never came at all. And yet the
day dragged on and had no ending. On the morning of that day we had
heard the terrible, numbing news from Shoval.
since then – without success – to make sense of how you left us,
Yonatan, how – as we slept – you left us forever, our beloved
What are we to do
now with all the love we felt for you? And the love you gave so
simply - how cold it is without it!
Susie told us
once that when you came home on a Friday from the army, you’d ask
what had been happening that week in Maya’s life; then when your
sister came in, you could talk about the things that mattered to
Maya, and Boaz
Among the things
that mattered to you was the need
- so strong in you – to face each challenge with
reflection, determination, and unshakeable courage.
Tough? You were
tough all right! Yet the face you showed us was gentle –
protective even, almost as if the grandson/grandparent roles had
Now Shenk and I
laugh – or cry – over memories we share, and for a fleeting
moment you are with us again.
Somehow, although we lived far apart, from the very beginning your
were always close to us. Each time we actually saw you, however, it
was painful to say goodbye again. One consolation was to see you at
home, in a place you loved.
If I needed proof
of this, I got it when we were talking, one day. “Have you ever
thought of living in another country?” I asked. “Would you like
said, with that lovely smile of yours. “Sure, but where do you
have a kibbutz?”