Understanding Loss

Understanding Loss

To try and explain the total and utter feeling of loss that I felt following October 7th 2023 is no small undertaking. Our world changed that day never to return. All that was our home, our surroundings, all that greeted our eyes and everything we interacted with is now only alive within memories.

The loss was so final that I still find it difficult to believe that it is all gone. Never did I ever consider that one day I would lose my home in such a malicious way. I often close my eyes and remember what is was like to live a day in the life of times past. I can recreate effortlessly how my day would begin from waking up in the early hours to going to bed. 

My life has always been well structured especially when it comes to routines. My morning routine was well choreographed as was much of my daily life. I found great comfort and strength in my daily rituals whether it was getting up in the morning, relaxing after work with my espresso or my training regime. Weekly routines like Friday night supper, Saturday breakfast and laundry all had their special meaning for me.

I was loving this stage of my life and savored every moment. There is a saying about living each day as if it was your last. In a way, October 7th 2023 was the last day of our lives as we knew it.

We are Creatures of habit

The days following October 7th 2023 were a strange mix of being grateful to be alive and trying to fathom what had happened. We could only imagine the devastation we had been rescued from and hadn’t seen photos of the destruction. Soon though my brother who revisited Beeri as soon as it was safe to, sent me photos of our home. It wasn’t long before the worlds media got in on the act and Beeri became the central story for the foreseeable future.

When I actually saw how utterly destroyed our house was, I was speechless. How could this be? My life changed with no way of going back. All that I held sacred had been turned to ashes. 

Life was not easy in the hotel we were living in. Everything reminded me of home. Everything I interacted with in the hotel would have its comparable memory from home playing in my head. To this day I still try to move the tap to the side before I rinse my mouth after brushing my teeth, but here the tap doesn’t move. I try to move on but simple habitual things will always come along and remind me of home. This was a beautiful life that I wasn’t ready to let go of.

Learning to live again

We lived for three months in two different hotels. We learned to exist as best we could with the little we had. We had been rescued form our house in Beeri wearing only our pajamas so we literally had the clothes we were wearing. Our wardrobe was made up of second hand (sometimes new) donations that came flooding in. We were so far from being comfortable but the situation we were in was far from normal. We were well looked after and there was much to be grateful for. This new normal, however, was fraught with much sadness, trauma and despair.

Surviving was one thing but being exposed to the trauma and grief suffered by our community day in and day out was a heavy burden to carry. In the following days and weeks we were informed of newly identified victims of the terror attack on Beeri. Many of our friends and neighbors were murdered that day. Many evenings were spent listening to peoples accounts of heroism, survival and sorrow. So many stories, so many broken families and so much tragedy.

Being part of a community was a great comfort in the following months. There was always a sense of trying to get normality back into peoples lives. The hotel was totally supportive to the needs of the community. I even began to work remotely a few hours a day which took my mind of things. This was a welcome respite. Hotel life was beginning to take its toll.