Gadi's Fourth Yahrzeit

On 7th May, we marked four years since we lost Gadi. For readers who may not be familiar with his story, on 21st May 2022 my youngest son died by suicide. At the time, he was a soldier in the Israel Defence Forces (IDF) and had earlier been detained after being found in the park opposite our home in possession of a very small amount of weed. We have no idea what was said or done to him at the police station, but Gadi clearly felt that his world had caved in. Since his death, mine has too.

To mark his yahrzeit, the anniversary of his passing, we lit a 24-hour memorial candle. We also recited the Mourner's Kaddish at his grave during a short service at the military cemetery where he is buried. Afterwards, we held a memorial evening for friends, where we remembered Gadi, shared stories about him, and reflected on the joy, humour and creativity he brought into our lives.

These are my words from that day.

"It has been four years since we lost Gadi, yet he is with me all day, every day.

He is with me when I prepare my breakfast in the morning, using the dishes he had reluctantly washed – only on the side he’d eaten from, never underneath. He is there too when I drink coffee from a Hull City mug, or from the Monopoly mug I bought him when he was much younger, because he and Nadav used to love playing that game together.

I see photos of him when I open my computer and recall the many adventures we got up to when the boys were young. I was well known for schlepping Nadav and Gadi – and yes, probably Richard – off to all sorts of weird and wonderful places. We took them on short hikes, to museums, to animal farms and of course on many lovely holidays. Not all of these trips were greeted with enthusiasm but most of the time they were ultimately enjoyed – and we spent precious time together.

I remember Gadi when I make lunch and dinner. He and I shared the same taste in food – apart from meat – and he enjoyed my curries and chillis and anything with a bit of a kick to it. When we took the boys out for dinner, Gadi often opted for something he had never eaten before. Whilst most kids were choosing schnitzel and rice, Gadi wanted to try something new. It wasn’t always to his taste, and it was sometimes hard to see good food go to waste, but I was proud of the fact that he was so adventurous.

Richard uses Gadi’s bedroom when he is working from home, but it is still and always will be Gadi’s room. I look at the collection of Coke cans on top of his shelves, and the map of the world above his bed – the very map he used to plan and dream about all the places he would visit one day.

I see the souvenirs he collected on the trips we made together, and the drawings and projects he made and was clearly very proud of.

In Kitah Hey, Gadi had a school science project where he had to create the menu, and then a model of a healthy meal. He took the project very seriously and wrote a great menu with some very sophisticated choices! Most of the other kids, as far as I can remember, chose cottage cheese and chopped Israeli salad – which is all very nice, but not nearly as delicious as Gadi's ideas.

He made whole wheat bread with butter and olive oil, all from polystyrene and paper. The main course was St. Peter’s Fish with onions, oregano, almonds and carrots, along with side dishes of brown rice and new potatoes. Dessert was fruit salad and a yoghurt drink. He did an amazing job!

Once a week I share a photo and a short memory of Gadi in the WhatsApp group we created for his friends. Before Pesach, I shared a delightful picture of him rolling shmura matza at Kfar Chabad. I have shared pictures of him paragliding at Ein Vered, a treat for his 10th birthday, and of him creating the totem pole he made in 2012. I can still see him sketching it at the kitchen table. When we went to see the finished piece, his art teacher told us that Gadi had planned for it to go in his bedroom. There was no way it was going to fit, and it has stood in the corner of our salon ever since. It may not be everyone’s taste in décor, but I still love it.

These weekly memories are a tonic for me. It is important for me to keep sharing pictures of my precious son. And because we are all "haverim shel Gadi" (Gadi's friends), if you would like to join the group, I’d be happy to add you.

In January I marked what would have been Gadi’s 23rd birthday by sharing some of my memories of his various birthday celebrations on Facebook. A well-meaning family friend wrote that it was good to see me finally focusing on that. Reading between the lines, I understood clearly what she meant. That we should stop trying to find out what happened the night Gadi died. Stop making noise, and move on.

But that will never, ever happen. Whilst I will always want to share memories of Gadi and the many wonderful – and not so wonderful – things he did in his short life, I will never stop telling his story. We have felt silenced by the wars of the last few years, with all the terrible things that have happened – but that does not mean that Gadi’s story should be put away forever.

From the day Gadi died, the police have refused to cooperate with us or tell us exactly what happened at the Modi’in police station. We know they switched off their body cameras when they put Gadi into the police car and, conveniently, only turned them on again when he was leaving the station.

What happened in between? What did they say to Gadi that made him tell his friend they were being “aggressive and mean”?

Why was the tobacco Gadi carried for rolling cigarettes taken from his tin and measured together with the very small amount of marijuana he – foolishly – had on him, making the offence appear far more serious than it actually was?

And when Gadi went missing, why was a location map not issued urgently? Why did it take so long to begin the most basic steps that might have helped find him in time?

And perhaps most disturbing of all – why did an Israel Police officer say to Gadi, just hours before his death: “Soldier? You’re in trouble”? What kind of message does that send to a young man already in a vulnerable situation?

The army has shown no interest either. We have tried again and again to meet with Rosh AKA, the Head of IDF Human Resources. Whilst we believe that the police are ultimately to blame for Gadi’s death, we want the army to hear from us where we feel changes must be made, so that the indifference shown to Gadi the night he died is never repeated with another soldier.

Rosh AKA refuses to meet with us if our lawyer is present. The very lawyer who has reviewed the limited materials we have received, and understands the exact timeline of events of the night Gadi died.

What is the army so afraid of?

In more recent months ERAN, the mental health and emotional support organization that offers confidential, anonymous help in times of crisis, has also deeply disappointed us. For those who may not know, Gadi called ERAN in desperation; the representative he briefly spoke with then called the police hotline. Incredibly, the young woman who answered had never heard of ERAN, and instead of beginning a search for Gadi – who was still alive for quite some time after his call — she sent a patrol car to the home of the ERAN volunteer in another city.

Because we only learned many of these details through our lawyer, we wanted to make sure that ERAN understood exactly what had happened, that it never ever happens again that the police hotline asks "מה זה ער"ן" "What is ERAN?"

I wrote to ERAN’s Chief Executive Officer in February of this year, loosely explaining the circumstances of Gadi’s death and yet making it clear that we did not blame the organization in any way. We simply wanted to meet with him so that ERAN too could learn from what happened.

His first reply expressed sympathy but did not address my request for a meeting.

I wrote again.

Another generic reply.

I wrote again.

Nothing.

Is this how systems improve and change? Is this how bereaved parents should be treated? I hardly think so.

I made aliyah to a country that I believed was the best place to raise a family. And yet, time and time again, the major institutions here are showing me that they do not care. We deserve better and Gadi certainly deserved better.

In May last year, we shared Gadi’s tragic story with Yedioth Aharonot, and in June Richard spoke live on Galei Tzahal. We have come to understand that this is what we can do for Gadi now: to tell his story and ensure the truth is heard.

We will continue to share his story – especially with those who most need to hear it – and we remain open to any support or ideas that can help us do so.

The last few years have been extremely difficult for us as a family, and of course for the whole country. We have lost so many good people.

I want to take a moment to remember Gadi’s dear friends Yakir Tatelbaum and Ariel Tsym, both heroes who gave their lives for this country. Gadi loved them both very much. I also want to mention the children of our dear friends from our support group, Shirelle Abukrat, Ofek Aharon, Oded Hagar, Reuven Magen, and Barak Meshulam.

Gadi was loved and he is deeply missed.
I will continue to share his stories, his drawings, and his photographs, so that he remains present in our lives. I will also continue to tell his story and to seek answers.

יהי זכרו ברוך

May his memory be a blessing"

In 2023, to mark Gadi's first yahrzeit, we held an exhibition of his drawings in a local gallery space. A close friend of ours, the cinematographer and film director Ron Katzenelson, made this wonderful film about it, which we showed at the memorial evening for Gadi.
You can watch it above, or click the link below for a better viewing experience in full screen. Gadi's work was all about the tiny details, and is best appreciated on a larger screen:
https://vimeo.com/manage/videos/1189149133

I hope you enjoy watching it.

* This post has been shared on Mosaic Monday, Monday Morning Blog Club, Busy Monday, Talking About It Tuesdays and Tuesday Turn About.

A Soldier’s Birthday

Since 7th October, I have been very careful not to share any personal information about the soldiers for whom I create cards. For their safety and security, I remove their names, and in any case, many of them have been explicitly told - not just advised - to avoid sharing anything on social media these days.
What I can share is that the mother of this young soldier asked me to create a birthday card for his 20th birthday. She wanted him depicted in his olive green Israeli army uniform, complete with his unit badge, his weapon, and his distinctive red army boots. She also asked me to include a heart with his girlfriend's name in it.

Just like the card I once made for Gadi, I depicted this young soldier in his uniform, holding his M4 rifle (Gadi's was an M16). His boots are placed next to him, along with the semel (symbol) of his unit and the requested heart. I did not include his beret on the card, but his mum asked me to use its colour for the number 20, marking his age.

"The birthday card was such a success!" she later wrote to me.

* This post has been shared on Happiness is Homemade, Mosaic Monday, Monday Morning Blog Club, Busy Monday, Handmade Monday, Talking About It Tuesdays, Tuesday Turn About, Wonderful Wednesday Blog Hop and Funtastic Friday.

Birthday Cards for Two Young Men in Uniform

I'm sharing the cards I created for these young soldiers on their 19th birthday, but I've removed their names for obvious reasons. For their safety and security, I can't say much about them without revealing too much. What I can share is that their mum asked me to include the badge, coloured beret, boots and weapon from each of the corps they currently serve in. The turquoise beret belongs to the Israeli Artillery Corps, the Israel Defence Forces (IDF) corps responsible for operating medium and long-range artillery.

I'm happy to report that the cards were very well received.

In Israel, military service is simply part of growing up. At 18, Jewish, Druze, and Circassian boys and girls are called up to serve - approximately three years for the boys and two for the girls - while Arab citizens of Israel are not conscripted. There are, of course, exceptions based on health, religious reasons, or other personal circumstances, and each teenager undergoes a full day of tests and interviews known as the Tzav Rishon, the "first draft notice". It is an important moment, the first real step into the world of the IDF.

Following that, every recruit receives a medical profile, which determines where they'll serve. Those with the highest profiles head to the combat units - the infantry brigades, combat intelligence, or engineering. Others are placed in roles like the Armoured Corps, Artillery, Military Police, or Border Police. And many more serve in essential support roles: logistics, adjutant corps, ordnance and all the behind-the-scenes jobs that keep the army running day and night.

Every so often, the question of compulsory service returns to the public debate - should Israel keep the draft or move to an all-volunteer army? In recent months, the issue has become even more heated, especially with growing public pressure on the Haredi community (ultra-Orthodox Jews), who are largely exempt from military service. Their ongoing fight to maintain these exemptions has added yet another layer to the national discussion - one that stirs strong feelings on all sides.
It's a conversation that never really goes away. But for now, with the continued need for a strong and sizeable military, most Israeli families still find themselves standing at induction bases, hugging their 18-year-olds tight. There's enormous pride in that moment, mixed with the very real flutter of fear that comes with letting them go.

* This post has been shared on Dare to Share, Saturday Sparks Link Party, Happiness is Homemade, Mosaic Monday, Busy Monday, Tuesday Turn About and Wonderful Wednesday Blog Hop.

Gadi's Third Yahrzeit*

It has been quite a while since I shared a personal post here. My regular readers will remember that on 21st May 2022 we lost our youngest son Gadi to suicide. We recently marked three years since his passing and I felt that I was not being true to myself if I did not mention it on my blog. It has been three very tough years of questions, waiting, imploring and, most of all, missing Gadi. Through a lawyer we have learnt many details that we were not told about at the beginning, but these details have only led to more questions. I do not believe that we will ever truly know what happened to my beloved son the night he died - the authorities concerned are banding together to keep us at bay - but we know who to blame and who ultimately caused Gadi to believe that life was no longer worth living.

At the end of May we marked the three years since Gadi's passing with a memorial evening and then a morning service at the military cemetery where he is buried. These are my words from that day.

Three years.

Gadi, it is impossible to believe that three years have passed since we lost you. Each evening, when I go out for a walk, I think about the words I want to say to you. I have so much to say and I plan it all in my head, but when it comes to writing it all down, the pain is too much to bear. I want to speak with you face to face. I want to reminisce with you and laugh about the crazy things you used to get up to. And yes, I guess I even miss the times when I yelled at you for losing all your things or forgot to do something important.

I don’t want to keep writing about you in the past tense. I want you to still be here, by this stage having finished your military service and probably off travelling in some obscure part of the world, exploring the places that you always dreamed of. I want to see photos of you in gorgeous settings and to enjoy the sketches you would most probably have made.

But that is not to be because three years ago, in May 2022, the world turned against you.

Three years.

The length of time it took to construct the Eiffel Tower and the core structure of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Three years. The time it took Charles Darwin to conduct fieldwork in South America, which laid the foundation for his theory of evolution.

The Watergate Scandal, the political scandal involving U.S. President Richard Nixon, unfolded over roughly three years.

Michelangelo completed the most intense painting work on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in about three years, and J.R.R. Tolkien wrote the bulk of The Lord of the Rings manuscript over approximately three years.

But in three years we have failed to learn, really learn about what happened to you the night you decided that life was no longer worth living. The police don’t want to talk to us or answer our many questions. The army don’t want to help, and it took so long to receive the report about your death – a report that told us next to nothing – that by the time we had received it, along with the additional materials, Harvot Barzel had begun and the story of your death was old.

It is hard to believe you died before this terrible war. That’s you don't know about the hatufim** or the many people who were killed, including your school friend Ariel and your best friend from the army, Yakir. Though perhaps you do know. Maybe you are all hanging out together, discussing what is going on down here and keeping each other company. I like to think so.

Not long ago we learned that Yakir named his car Steve. Steve. The name that you, Gadi, used for everything. When you and Nadav were young we all used to love watching ‘Walk On The Wild Side’ clips together. For those of you who have not yet discovered the clips, ‘Walk On The Wild Side’ was a British comedy sketch show shown on BBC One. It involved the overdubbing of voiceovers to natural history footage, to give the appearance of the animals doing the talking. You, Gadi, were particularly enamoured with the talking marmots named Steve and Alan. Many characters in the delightful stories you then wrote were henceforth named Steve. I have convinced myself that Yakir, a US-born young man who became completely Israeli and refused to speak English even with us, named his car Steve because you once suggested he do so.

Gadi, you were such a talented young man. Using the words you once used to describe yourself, you were “messy, artistic and funny”. I still have so much to say about you, but telling your story called “My Pet Puffin”, a story about a Puffin called, yes you guessed it, Steve, seems like a good way to share just one of your many talents.

“I wish I had a pet puffin. If I did I would call it Steven (only because I like the name) and I would call him Steve for short. During the day Steve could waddle round the house with us, and during the night he could sleep in the bath that we never use full of warm water (because he comes from the Atlantic and the Atlantic has mostly warm water.) I would fill the bath with small rocks and pebbles, and I would build a sort of artificial stone ledge for him to perch on. I would pour a salt container into the water, and put a few fish in the bath in case he wanted a snack in the middle of the night. During the day I would feed him an assortment of herring, tuna and whatever other fish we could find in the fridge. Sometimes I would play a recording of other puffins to him so he would feel at home. Maybe I would get a female puffin as well. I would call her Stevette.”

Gadi, you wished for a pet puffin. I wish for a lot of things.

I wish you had never discovered weed, whether it was at school or at youth club, it was certainly not something you learnt about at home.

I wish that the Modi’in police had not been aggressive and mean, and had instead seen you as a young, tired soldier who just needed to be sent home.

I wish you had woken Dad.

I wish that the army had been more proactive and helped you that night, and I wish that they would listen to what we have to say now.

I wish that the lawyer that you called at midnight had answered her phone.

I wish that the guy you spoke with at ERAN, Israel's emotional first aid service, had been more prepared.

I wish that the young girl who answered the Israeli police emergency phone line that night knew what ERAN was and had done her job correctly.

I wish that the friends that you reached out to had understood your despair.

But most of all, Gadi, I wish you were still here. I miss you so much.

Despite the lack of cooperation from the authorities involved, we were recently successful in getting Gadi's story onto the front page on a national newspaper, Yedioth Ahronoth. Though it will not bring Gadi back, it is important to us that the public know his story, about the dreadful lack of care that was shown to him the night he died, and about all the mistakes that were made.

This is the link for those of you who are interested in reading the full article in English.

* Yahrzeit is a Yiddish word meaning anniversary of a death. It is the yearly anniversary of a loved one's death (traditionally the anniversary of the Hebrew date, not the Gregorian date). Jewish people observe yahrzeit at home by lighting a special long-burning candle in memory of the deceased.

** Hatufim is the Hebrew word for hostages and, in this case, refers to the 55 men and women still being held in captivity in Gaza. 33 are believed to be deceased, 20 are believed to be alive and 2 unknown.

This post has ben shared on The Good. The Random. The Fun. and Wordless Wednesday (on Tuesday).

Yonatan and Yishai

Yonatan was turning 21. His mum asked me to make him a birthday card showing him wearing his black army vest top with the logo and name Magist (מאגיסט) on it. Yonatan's black vest in fact has the logo on the back of it but, with some artistic licence, I put it on the front.

The MAG (a heavy machine gun) is one of the oldest and most powerful weapons of the IDF (the Israel Defence Forces). A Magist (heavy machine gunner) is a soldier who, on long marches and trips into the field, is charged with carrying a gun five times the weight of the normal M-16 rifle most soldiers carry, and wearing a tactical vest weighing twice as much as well. 

Mum also asked me to show Yonatan playing the guitar. I didn't want to cover his vest, so had him holding the guitar instead. In the background I added two badges of Sayeret Golani, the Golani brigade's scouting unit. It is one of several units which specialize in intelligence gathering and surveillance. Sayeret (סיירת) means "Reconnaissance", Golani is one of the five infantry brigades of the IDF.

A big 21 marks Yonatan's age.

14-year-old Yishai is Yonatan's cousin. He had seen the cards I have made for Yonatan and his brothers over the years and put in a request for his own. Apparently he loves my cards and they have inspired him to make a few in a similar style to mine.

Yishai wanted me to show him with Disneyworld in the background. He has big blue-turquoise eyes, his mum told me, so we decided to show him wearing a T-shirt of that colour. She asked me to add a 14 on the card as well.

The card was very well received. "It is gorgeous!" mum messaged me. "Just perfect!"

* This post has been shared on Create, Bake, Grow & Gather

"I feel so sad that killing each other seems to be the only response"

I posted yesterday about the current situation in Israel. One of the comments to my post was as follows:

Anonymous said...
"I don't have any answers, Lisa, but I feel so sad that killing each other seems to be the only response from either side. So many wasted lives!"

What would you like Israel's "response" to be exactly? Israel has tried everything to live in peace with Gaza. It unilaterally withdrew from Gaza in 2005, and since Hamas took power in 2007 Hamas has invested every penny it has in armaments. Israel supplies water to Gaza so what did Hamas do? They dug up many of their water pipes and turned them in rocket launchers. (Google it if you don't believe me). 

Funny isn't it that Gaza is short of everything except rockets?

Israel has allowed thousands of Gazans each day to come into Israel and work. Israel has allowed Qatar to literally send in suitcases of money into Gaza. And at every turn Israel has been met with rockets launched at its cities. And on 7th October 2023, when Israel's guard was down, 2,500 Hamas terrorists invaded Israel and tortured and butchered 1,500 people. Whole families, kids, women, the elderly. And then kidnapped another 200 people. What would you have Israel do? What would YOU do in that situation? 

Even now Israel is only trying to eliminate Hamas and avoid harm to Palestinian civilians. That is why Israel gave advanced warning to Palestinians to move to the south of Gaza to avoid being hit. And what did Hamas do? They blocked the exit routes with lorries on the 2 main exit roads to prevent civilians from leaving. Hamas use Palestinian civilians as human shields whilst firing rockets at Israeli civilians. And nothing delights Hamas more than when there are Palestinian casualties, knowing that the western liberal elites will lap it up. Witness the world outcry at the Palestinian hospital that was hit 2 days ago. And when Israel gives categorical proof that it was an Islamic Jihad misfired rocket that hit the hospital, suddenly know one is interested anymore.

Israel is in an impossible situation. Damned if it does, damned if it doesn't. So I repeat, what would you have Israel do? What would YOU do in that situation?

A Time Like No Other

I haven't blogged for quite some time. We lost our soldier son in May 2022 and honestly I haven't felt like there was anything to write about or share here. But I am aware that my blog is called "Handmade in Israel" and that I have shared many wonderful things about the country I live in over the years. It's time to share some not so wonderful news.

On Saturday 7th October "Operation Iron Swords" began with a coordinated surprise offensive on Israel. The attack began in the early morning with a barrage of at least 3,000 rockets launched from the Hamas-controlled Gaza Strip, one of which reached the city that I live in. In parallel, some 2,500 Palestinian terrorists breached the Gaza-Israel barrier and massacred civilians in neighbouring Israeli communities. At least 1,350 Israelis were massacred, including residents of eight kibbutzim in southern Israel and 260 young people at the "Supernova" music festival. 199 unarmed civilian hostages and captured Israeli soldiers were taken to the Gaza Strip, including women, young children and babies. This was the largest sustained slaughter of Jews since the Holocaust.

Hamas, an Islamist terrorist movement, launched its attacks during the end of the Sukkot Jewish holiday and 50 years after the 1973 "Yom Kippur War", which also began with a surprise attack. Israel began conducting retaliatory strikes before formally declaring war on Hamas a day later.

I am not a particularly political person and anyway, I prefer to leave politics out of this blog. But these are the facts. Visiting my son's grave at the local cemetery, I discovered six new graves of young soldiers who have been killed in action in little more than a week. There are more new plots in the non-military section. We hear constant booms in the distance of the Iron Dome, Israel's mobile air defence system, intercepting rockets. Worry, together with the non-stop roar 24/7 of air force jets, keeps me awake at night. We have watched memorial service after memorial service on the television of those murdered and killed in action. Last Friday we stood holding Israeli flags in a guard of honour on the route to the cemetery for a former student at our boys' school. We worry about what will happen to our sons' friends and the children of all our friends when we progress into Gaza.

The terrorist attacks by Hamas are pure evil. Israel has a right to exist and anyway, as Golda Meir said, we have nowhere else to go. The antisemitic demonstrations in London, New York and around the world have shown us that. 

I urge you to keep us in your hearts in the coming days.

* The cards are all commissions I have made over the years for young people who are or were IDF (Israel Defence Forces) soldiers or about to start their military service.

** This post has been shared on My Corner of the World, Little Things Thursday and Wordless Wednesday (on Tuesday).