By Malkie Gordon Hirsch Magence
These days, unfortunately, there’s no shortage of heartbreaking news coming out of the Jewish world, both locally and internationally.
I peruse different media outlets, watching other people’s reactions and their use of emojis to express their feelings of shock and sadness at these news items. And no, I don’t speak up much on these occasions.
It’s not that I don’t have something to say, I just know from personal experience what it’s like to be on the receiving end when others express their sadness about a tragedy that does not affect them personally, so I stay quiet and internalize things in my normal way.
I don’t think people understand the utter inutility of publicly announcing how a tragedy has directly affected them. Maybe it’s because I know what it feels like to be stuck in a reality that I want no part of while the people expressing their sorrow and grief get to resume their normal lives way faster than I do.
Maybe it’s because of what I have gone through in my life and where life has taken me. Maybe it’s me protecting myself because I know it’s a slippery slope that will lead to me going places I’ve been and don’t care to be anymore.
I vacillate between a complete numbness that I attribute to feeling too much to near hysteria at the magnitude of these tragedies, to utter disbelief that situations like this can still occur. Although I’ve lived through many personal setbacks, I think it’s sometimes too much for me to comprehend that other people are going through their own personal tragedies.
When I lost Moshe, I might have thought that it was an isolated incident that didn’t happen to other people. And yet, years later, when I hear of such situations happening to others, I still have the same reaction. Utter shock and disbelief.
It’s too much pain, too many sleepless nights, too many tears, and wondering how long it will take to feel like yourself again.
Then there’s the guilt and the never-ending cycle of ways to blame yourself for the feelings you have or don’t have.
There’s relearning who you were before this tragedy occurred, fear that you have forgotten the things that were important to you, and wondering if you will ever recover the version of yourself that’s recognizable to you and those around you because you want that old life back. The one you were used to and loved.
The life that felt like a broken-in shoe or a comfortable sweater that fit you like a glove even before you put it on.
The familiarity of finally knowing who you are and what you were meant to be.
And suddenly, things happen, and you’re no longer that person but someone who looks exactly like you but feels completely different.
The thoughts that plague your mind, the decisions you must make all by yourself, the yearning to rewind time and the promise you make to yourself to never take for granted the happiness you didn’t realize you had.
Generally, we don’t realize we’re experiencing the good stuff in life until it’s taken away.
To say that I wasn’t affected by the news happening both here and in Israel would be a lie.
I don’t think there’s a mother who watched Rachel Goldberg-Polin eulogize her son without a combination of heartbreak and awe at her clarity and her indescribable ability to articulate her love and gratitude for being gifted a son like Hersh.
The way she reframed her loss from what might have been anger and bitterness to utter gratitude for a child she loved, yet lost too soon was inspiring to witness.
It took an incredible amount of strength, not the brand that people enjoy touting to others going through hell while they’re safely on the other side. “She’s so strong” isn’t a thing.
She has no choice because this is what life has presented to her. It doesn’t mean there won’t be times when she feels the other not-so-great emotions associated with loss, but to have the strength to deliver such a beautiful sentiment at the appropriate time was a testament to her sheer will and our human ability to choose stoicism and acceptance even in the face of such arduous circumstances.
Nobody is beyond the ability to choose their emotions in response to difficult times. Still, for a woman who had endured what she has in the past year, it seemed extraordinary to have that type of resolve.
To dig deep within, to give her son the most loving and heartfelt send-off a mother could ever bestow on her beloved son, was nothing short of extraordinary.
This year hasn’t been easy, and there’s a strange comfort in knowing that others understand what it feels like to grieve instead of being alone in these emotions.
My only hope for this upcoming period of introspection and prayer is that we can finally witness freedom for those who were taken against their will, and have the strength to help those still suffering from those life chances with patience, love, and the grace that they deserve. n
Malkie Gordon Hirsch Magence is a native of the Five Towns community, a mom of 5, a writer, and a social media influencer.
