Last night, I got my first decent nights sleep since I left the forest at Gathering, back on July 7th. I woke and finally felt ready to move on with my own life. Then I checked the news and saw the names of the chayalim from yesterday. OY VEY! The name of the son of my lifelong friend from 1st grade. I called his dad. No answer. I prayed. I cried. All my defenses against the crushing sadness left me and I wept. Later, his dad called and told me that it wasnt his son, but rather one with the same name and age, who live about 100 yards from my Jerusalem home. But it will never be the same for me, despite the relief that came, barely.
Posted on: Tue, 29 Jul 2014 09:07:48 +0000
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