A Bearer of Bad New

In English we call it a bearer of bad news, and I am the one who has become the bearer of bad news.

I was the one to tell my parents that Amit and Tal and Tom are no more. I was the one telling my brothers about it. Telling the worst news that a parent can get, keeping a neutral face, calm on the outside and destroyed inside.

I was the one on the phone desperately searching for information on my surviving nephew, trying to figure out where he was. Arriving in Turin and trying to understand the situation, the prognosis.

I was the one at his bedside, hearing his first real words and holding back the tears, when he started waking up.

I was the one who responded in a delicate and non-direct manner to his requests to see mum, to talk to dad. 'Mom and Dad can't talk right now” I whispered. Hoping he wouldn’t ask me why, yet.

I was the one to give him the horrible news about mom, dad, and Tomi. That they will always love him, but now they watch him from their place in the sky. That he can talk to them and draw for them and later he will be able even  to write to them. But that they cannot answer, only in our hearts. Trying to give a hug to a child who doesn't want one, because he wants that hug from his mother, and he will never be able to have it again. And I am beside his bed with my tears blocked and a huge cry suffocating my throat.

I was the one who continued to answer his questions, answers that illustrated a new reality for him. And for us.

And always, behind the calm face and the sweet voice my heart still refuses to understand that this is the reality. True. Even after 3 years I can’t accept this surreal truth.

I am the one who continues to stay by his side, together with my daughters and husband, hugging him, holding his hand to help him fall asleep. In the few first months we were sleeping on a mattress in the children bedroom so that all 3 children at home could be close to us.

I am the one pulling the cart. My husband and I. School, friends, hobbies, birthday parties, sports, music, and still answering questions, and still, forever, supporting and hugging.

And how I wish that he would have a real chance to find happiness somewhere in his life, normality in an abnormal situation. Because he is not the memory of my brother and sister-in-law. He is a child. An intelligent and sensitive child. A child who deserves not to be labeled as a memory, as 'the survivor'. A child who deserves to have as normal a life as possible. School, sport, art, music, friends, love, family. Stability.

I never wanted to be the bearer of bad news. I don’t want to be the one. I can't be that anymore.

#DrAyaBiranNirko #PrisonDocTales #PrisonStories #MedicalMemoir #WorkBehindWalls #PrisonMedicine #BehindBars #LifeInLockup #BookObsessed #Bookstagram #Author #Book #Amazon #AmazonBooks #MustRead #BookLovers #BookAddict #ReadersOfInstagram #BookRecommendation #Amazonkindle #BehindBars #UnexpectedTwists #ResilienceJourney #Mottarone #cablecarcrash