The Fourth of of Seven Special Days

Day 4 ~ Saturday, February 7

It had been an integrated part of our Shabbat program: Wim always took Na’il to the nearby pool. This morning Wim only went to put up the death notice on the board, and tell the frequent swimmers what had happened.

The house felt quiet. Too quiet.
“It’s as if Na’il is away for a visit to his parents,” Wim said.
Around noon the sun shone brightly and the weather was balmy, and Wim almost suggested taking Na’il for a walk. So much to get used to!

Our Shabbats always evolved around Na’il’s needs and activities. The helpless child needed to drink his bottle, then helped on the toilet, then into the bathtub, then watch a DVD, then taken for a walk, etc. The girls usually spent most of their time in their rooms, and most of the time were self-efficient.
No longer was there the impatient ‘rattling’ sound made by Na’il, the sign he needed to go to the toilet. On the double! No longer did I quickly have to save my typing and run downstairs to help him.

Now we had plenty of uninterrupted time to ‘relax’ and read or write, something we always wished and hoped for. Because it wasn’t feasible, we learned to accept it.
“One day perhaps?” we always told each other.
Now that day had arrived and we didn’t know what to do with it.

The many pictures of Na’il helped us reminiscence the stories behind them. There were so many precious memories.

Because the Shabbat (the ‘Queen’) should be a day of joy, people usually don’t visit a house in mourning. We didn’t know that, but were grateful for the unexpected rest, and saw God’s timing when three Dutch friends came for a visit, without knowing it from each other.

The couple worked in a Children’s home near Bethlehem with mentally and physically handicapped children and the woman as a nurse among Russian immigrants.
Na’il’s food had consisted only of formula, and I had been wondering what to do with the stack of 170 tins we just had bought. The answer came to visit us – we could bless our Dutch friends with Na’il’s formula and his diapers. Again, I was amazed about the rippling effect of this Shiva, and the added blessing it brought to others.

My eyes were still red and swollen, but I noticed that the crying had become already less, and wondered if this was normal. Sleeping was still difficult, and it seemed 3 a.m. was to become my normal waking time. Because we didn’t move around much, physically we were not tired, only exhausted emotionally.

We felt carried by all the prayers being said on our behalf. God was with us in a special way!
Sleepless nights always trigger nasty headaches in me. Added to that, never before had I been forced to talk so much in my life (and in Hebrew!), and wreck my brain to find the right words. That too would have been enough to bring on a headache.

But there were none.

Another miracle!

"Shavua tov!" ~ that's what we say to each other on Saturday evening, the beginning of a new week.