The Language of Loss

Thankfully, since the ceasefire has been put into place, the horrific phrase that took my breath away each time during the past two years – הותר לפרסום
(Cleared for publication) is heard less these days.

I realize that this is of little solace for the families of the three soldiers who have been killed since the ceasefire was declared.

For the non-Israelis, “ cleared for publication” is the media’s and the army’s way of announcing a death of a soldier.

From their perspective, I can only assume, that they believe that softening the language will soften the tragedy.

It doesn’t for me.

The latest catchphrase that many journalists are using of late is “closure” ( סגירת מעגל). They are using this term in reference to the families whose loved ones were killed in Gaza and Hamas has yet to release their bodies.

The families certainly need the bodies to be returned immediately so they can have a proper burial ceremony. And, Israel should continue demanding that the Trump Agreement be upheld by Hamas.

But, there is no closure, at least from my experience, since losing my son Ariel z”l to suicide almost nine years ago.

The opposite is true – the process of grief first begins with all its power after the funeral and sitting shiva.

After sitting shiva for seven days, there is a custom for the mourners to get up and walk around the block. This encourages people to reenter society, to move forward, and to “Ride Through.” (Ride Through is my personal statement that I choose life despite the never ending hills that I need to climb and the falls that inevitably happen on my path of healing).

I continue living despite the loss and with the loss. But, the absence of my son is always present.

There is no closure to losing a child.

There is no closed circle.

Grief is an ongoing process for me and I have no closure.

But, there is a path to life. And, I hold onto this life with great joy with my painful loss by my side as I Ride Through.