A Remembrance of The Fallen

We met when I was 20 on a big trip after the Army. 

He had a smile like a Hollywood actor.

And I had no idea it would become more than a relationship. 

He was the happiest and most optimistic person.  Ask anyone who knows about him, ‘what do you remember about him?’ And the first thing they will say is his smile and his joy.

We became more than just a couple.  We were partners in everything.  After the wedding, there were holidays.  We did not plan anything; we were just going to rest.

Our friends insisted that we come to the Nova Festival.  Calling non-stop.  In the middle of the night, we decided to go.  And we arrived at 6:15 in the morning.

We started to hear rockets.  A crazy number of rockets launches.  We had to evacuate the area.  And we just drove like crazy.  Me, Mor, and two other good friends.

We reached the intersection of Mefalism.  There we see a white truck.  The truck was blocking the road.

It was a split-second decision of what to do.

Mor said he was going to go around the truck on the right side. 

We all lowered our heads.  Mor sat like this, so he can keep his eyes on the road.

And a stream of bullets started pounding the car.

The car flipped over.

We were upside down in a ditch.

Everything was gray and I was in pain.

You could still hear gunshots outside, [people speaking in] Arabic.

Chaos.

And then we realize that Mor is not answering.

We’re saying ‘Mor, answer us.  Are you okay?”

And he doesn’t respond.

I reached out my hand to Mor, to check if he’s breathing.  Maybe he’s unconscious and he needs to be resuscitated.

And my hand just went to his head.  And I see that it is covered in blood.  And I completely lost it.

I see that the right part of Mor’s head was completely open.  I did not know what to do.

I press on him; I’m trying to wake him up.

I keep telling Mor to get up, please.

No, it can’t be that you’re dead now.

It can’t be, we just got married.

There’s no way.

I called the police.  They apologized.  They told me they have no way of helping.

And I knew.  This is it.  And I just waited for my death.

They moved from car to car.  You would hear screaming and crying.  Shots.  Then silence.

We took Mor’s blood, we smeared it over ourselves, and laid there like we were already dead.

The car was crushed.  We were upside down.  And when they got to our car, they got on top, they circled the car, and then continued to the next car.

I have no way to explain that they didn’t shoot at the car, they did not even try.

Nothing.

They just continued to the next car.

After five-and-a-half hours, the IDF arrived. And by chance, they found us.  My first phone call was to my parents, at one in the afternoon, when I got to a shelter in Sderot.

And from there I started a new chapter in my life.  Here I am, a 26-year-old girl who suffers from anxiety attacks, from nightmares, too afraid to drive.  I am not able to take care of myself.  I can’t go back to work.  All the time I keep saying “what?  Is this how my life will be from now on?  For the rest of my life?”

Many times, during this period you feel alone.  But then others come and show you that they’re here for you.  And during this period, it’s most important not to be alone.

When you know there are people who care about what you are going through, it gives you strength.  Because you get up and say I’m not alone.

You get up.  Keep going.  Enjoy.  Dream.  Smile.  Get up.  That will be my victory.

I’m rebuilding myself from day-to-day.  I’m occupying myself by memorializing Mor, our story.  The whole world needs to know what we went through.

No one can take the place of Mor.

No one will be like my husband.

He was the most special person I’ve ever met.

He was my home.

And he always will be.

And I promised Mor that we would win.

So, I have to.