Gam Ki Eilech

Yarden:

Thank you for sharing the gift of your beautiful sons with the world, thank you for their smiles and laughter; we lovingly gazed upon their beautiful light.

The purity and sweetness from Ariel & Kfir lives’ is indelibly marked in our hearts.

Thank you for sharing your Eishet Chayil; Shiri Bibas. A woman of immense strength, a Jewish mother.

How desperately we davened and hoped to cry in joy at the sight of a family reunion; not a family of eulogies.

We prayed, loved, and grieved alongside you as if we were additional members of your family. Thank you Yarden, for the gift of your family. For gracefully allowing the world into your private life after so many choices were taken away from you, thank you for allowing us to grieve along with you.

The Jewish world embraces you.

In times of immense tragedy, we are shaken by the reminder of life’s fragility.
This past week, the Jewish nation has been brought to their knees.
Tearing our garments can’t express how deeply our collective Jewish heart is torn open and bereft at the senseless reality of their murders.
We are mourning on the floor in our souls.
Crying out in pain until the sobering silence arrives.
No words can express the depth of sorrow.
Silence and inner turmoil in rebuilding the idea of what kind of world we live in and what will be tomorrow after utter devastation.

In the face of disaster, we often find ourselves asking, “Why?”
Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, known for his deep compassion and advocacy for the Jewish people, once wrote:

“Eternal Presence of the world, I am not asking You to show me the secret of your ways, for it would be too much for me. But I am asking You to show me one thing: what is the meaning of the suffering that I am presently enduring, what this suffering requires of me, and what You are communicating to me through it.”

The eye has a dark part and a white part. One can only see through the dark part – Midrash Tanchuma, Parshat Tetzaveh

Through the lens of darkness we view the harsh cruelty of this week. The light of our hope and spiritual beliefs can be overshadowed by the darkness of life’s great challenges.

These poignant reflections capture the essence of our struggle with loss and the search for meaning in our pain, as we acknowledge and confront the darkness and grief.

As we say goodbye to Shiri and her beautiful boys, we face the weight of their loss. Yet, in doing so, we also honor their memory and embrace the power and light of family life they brought into our world. Their legacy serves as a reminder that even amidst darkness, the light of their beautiful lives continues to shine. In their memory, we can reflect that light through our mitzvot.

Rabbi David Wolpe, in his reflections on loss, reminds us that “faith is not a fortress.” It does not shield us from pain but provides us with the strength to endure it. In grief, we find the courage to continue, to remember, and to honor Shiri, Ariel & Kfir.

The righteous, even in death, are called ‘alive.’ Their legacy endures, and their impact continues to resonate within us;

May their memories be for a blessing, even more so may our deeds attach to those words and their neshamas soar eternally higher.