My dad is a sportive and thin turning 70 – looking 55 man.
During a regular physical check-up, he was urgently rushed into a heart bypass surgery; the doctors told him that he can get a heart attack any minute now, and there’s no chance he will survive it.
We’re still stunned, it was so fast and unexpected. Thankfully he’s very strong and every doctor’s dream, as they keep telling him.
I was on my way to the ER when a good friend called, crying about a 17 years old boy who comited suicide. It was a real surprise for his family and friends, as everything looked ok. He was loved and a good student, smart and popular.
He showed no signs of depression and as his parents said, at this age when they are in their rooms with a closed door, you figure it’s a regular adolescence behavior. If in addition they are introverts, how can you guess that they are actually depressed?
My friend has an introvert son who’s going through a rough period, and she stopped sleeping at all.
When I returned from the hospital, my 12 years daughter came home and cried for hours; The boys in her peer group were cursing, shouting at her and calling her names, she had no idea what she did to deserve that.
Looking into it, what I actually understood was that one of these boys, a good friend, was crying before this started; apparently he’s going through a rough period himself, and he was offended by her. She can’t see his side of course, as she’s in a victim state of mind now. He apologized deeply later on, but she wouldn’t accept his apology, my little drama queen. Or should I say, my 12-year-old behaving as 12’s do.
So I went out to get some fresh air, saw this lonely widow neighbour whose son is living at the other side of the globe. She has only cats to talk to, she was feeding them and I started crying like a baby.
Which of course I can’t, because I can’t place my burdens on my children’s young shoulders.
They can’t know about my financial anxieties, it’s not their fault that I need to close my 5 years old business.
And I shouldn’t cry because many things in my life are great, the important things .
While all I want now is to disappear, I’m trying to remind myself that I’m fortunate to have a loving family, a supportive husband, that some days it all looks dark but brighter days are in line; that nothing actually happened; after all, it’s all regular daily issues, isn’t it? It’s called “life” 😦
This poem below has been written by an Israeli poet called Yehuda Amichai. This poet is very known in my country, being taught in schools, and one of the few I remember since childhood.
If you are not a poems person (I’m not, it’s ok) please only read the first 4 lines, it’s a good summary.
God Full Of Mercy
God-Full-of-Mercy, the prayer for the dead.
If God was not full of mercy,
Mercy would have been in the world,
Not just in Him.
I, who plucked flowers in the hills
And looked down into all the valleys,
I, who brought corpses down from the hills,
Can tell you that the world is empty of mercy.
I, who was King of Salt at the seashore,
Who stood without a decision at my window,
Who counted the steps of angels,
Whose heart lifted weights of anguish
In the horrible contests.
I, who use only a small part
Of the words in the dictionary.
I, who must decipher riddles
I don’t want to decipher,
Know that if not for the God-full-of-mercy
There would be mercy in the world,
Not just in Him.