They said ‘Um…’ Such a little word. Not even a word. But it spoke volumes.
It was erev Shabbos.(the day before Shabbos) Yishai should have been home by now. His younger brother had tried to reach him numerous times but no one picked up. I was a bit worried and tried calling some of his friends . Their answers were vague. ‘Um…” I chalked it up to lack of social abilities in young kids. One said, ‘If you’re worried about the terrorist attack, I think it was an older person that was killed.’ Killed? Terrorist attack? This was the first I heard regarding a terrorist attack. Those ‘um’s. Um, um, um…Their sounds grew to a crescendo. I was surrounded by monstrous ‘um’s’ In a nightmare that was all too real. i felt faint.
I checked. The attack took place at the bus stop where Yishai would switch busses to get home. At the time when Yishai would be there. My heart began to race.
My phone rang twice. Almost simultaneously. The first call said it all. ‘Israel Police’ read the screen. They wanted me down at the hospital. No details. The second was Ezer Mizion. They were worried about me. ‘Do you have a ride to the hospital?’
Ezer Mizion knew me well from a situation a few years ago. That one had a happy ending. Now? My heart told me this situation would not end well. My legs turned weak when the doctor met me in the hospital lobby and led me to an office. An office? I had been expecting to be brought to the ICU. The ICU has hope. The doctor’s words destroyed any shred of hope still fluttering in my heart. “We tried our best…”
Several years ago, Yishai’s younger brother itamar was diagnosed with cancer. Ezer Mizion was everywhere, smoothing the way for us. There were gifts for Itamar. I remember an expensive Lego set that he loved. There were presents, activities and trips for itamar and his siblings. In fact, the younger kids remember this period as a fun time. There was one time when I was particularly down. A Ezer Mizion angel a spent four hours with me!
Ezer Mizion would also be with us now but there would be no rejoicing. Just tears, a funeral, shiva. We would hear stories of how a new student came to the dorm and mistakenly put his things on Yishai’s bed. “I hope this isn’t your bed,” he asked. “I use the top bunk,” answered Yishai unwilling to embarrass him. . And the story of the boy from a weak background . Yishai learned with him and ended every session describing how the angels are dancing with joy as they watch from the heaves . They finished the perek the day before the fatal Friday.
Each story, each facet of those agonizing days needed support. Each member of the family reacted differently. Ezer Mizion was there for us all with sensitivity, with caring, with love. They will hold our hands in the months to come. Because our challenges are their mission.
