As with all life event's, there's a beginning and an end. Today we said goodbye to one of the kids in my unit for at least a short while, how long, we're not exactly sure, but he plans on coming back.
Today we found out that the father of one of the boys in my unit passed away Friday morning. A heart attack.
So while many of use are staying in our rooms feeling icky cause we're coming down with the common cold, he's flying home to only be met with the worst possible thing, the loss of a parent. The idea of coming home to an incomplete family, or one in which someone I love very much wasn't there, would make me question my faith in G-d or even my veiw on life and religion, or what life has in store for me.
At Friday night services, peoples eyes where filled with tears of sorrow, our songs are not so joyful nor uplifting. All over the campus is a quiet and solemn air, those who knew this young man well grieve in pain for his loss, and those who don't know him so well try to comfort them. Our talks and daily discussion become carefully spoken. We're all treading on thin ice, not wanting to say something offensive nor say something to sensitive. For this Shabbat we walk on our eggshells, treading on silent feet and praying for him to come back soon and for our community of learning to be whole once again.
