Our neighbor just passed, a child. I don’t know the child. I never met this family before. All I know from the shuffling outside and the tears is that they are Jewish as I hear Hebrew.
I just want to hide. I’m hungry, but I can’t leave the room. I can’t see them.
I can’t fathom their pain. I can’t fathom it. I wonder what they are saying? I understand a few words. Rabbi, etc. I try not to listen. I want to respect their privacy, but they are right next door. I hear them. I hear the pain.
I wonder if they still believe in God?
Do they have answers to the death of a child?
Do they find solace in culture?
I just can’t imagine that any words can help, even those of their religious texts. Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe they have an understanding of the world where they understand tragedies such as this. That I don’t have. I can’t even imagine that.
The sounds have now stopped. The family has left along with this child’s soul.
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