Confronting a terrible reality
I recently returned from an 11-day trip to Israel. This trip was a privilege - emotionally and physically challenging, but very rewarding. I was given this opportunity through Birthright Onward and the UJA Federation of New York, organizations to whom I am forever grateful.
Over the 8 days of the organized trip, I was able to meet so many wonderful people, hear unbelievable stories, and bear witness to the atrocities committed on October 7th. My love for Israel has only grown, and I am in awe of the strength of her people.
It is no secret that since October 7th, I have struggled with the lack of acknowledgment by the funeral service industry of the horrific murders that took place. I have spoken up and out about it, and have shared the mission of ZAKA Search and Rescue with whoever I can. I have been told that people do not want to ruffle feathers, that they do not want to make something political, but the rape and murder of innocent civilians should not be controversial.
While I can tell many stories, I wanted to share one in particular, as it weighs heavily on me as a human, Jewish professional, and funeral director.
On the way to the Nova Festival site, our madrich (guide) Maor shared a personal story that for the first time on the trip, brought me to tears. Maor met Bruna Valeanu, who recently made aliyah to Israel with her mother, on a Birthright trip that he staffed. Bruna attended the Nova Festival and was brutally murdered on October 7th by terrorists, along with hundreds of other innocent victims.
As if this was not terrible enough for her family, Bruna’s family was not sure that they would be able to gather enough people for a minyan at the graveside, which is required for traditional Jewish burial. Maor shared that the family posted online asking for help to reach 10 people, and rather than just 10, tens of thousands of people showed up to ensure Bruna was laid to rest according to Jewish custom.
I walked around the Nova Festival site looking at the images of the victims, feeling sadness that they met such a horrific fate, anger that this happened and that families were not whole, and hopelessness that even after everything that they went through, families may not have been able to properly bury their loved ones.
We continued to the graveyard of cars, a truly awful place, where the burned cars of the Nova victims are on display for us to bear witness. I stood in the middle, around an installation of a car with poppies, and a rock that displayed the word Yizkor, which means “May G-d remember”, where I recited the Mourner’s Kaddish for all of the innocent lives lost.
I then looked for Maor, to ask him about his experience. I had thought about how families and communities might navigate shiva and Sheloshim but never thought for a minute that one may not have enough friends or family in Israel to have a minyan. I wanted to know if any other families had a similar experience and explained to him what I do in my professional life and how affected I was by what he shared.
This is an abridged, not very well-told, glimpse of my time in Israel, but it has impacted me greatly. I strongly urge those who work with the Jewish community to think about what it may mean to lose a loved one and not be able to provide them with a proper Jewish burial. I urge you to think about what it means to not have a whole person to bury, to not have a proper mourning period, to not be able to fulfill religious and cultural obligations.
Ask questions. Inform yourself. Understand the struggles of others. Show humanity. Above all, as easy as it may be to do so - do not look away. Bear witness. It is the only way we can begin to heal together.
