Sunday.
An ordinary day.
Life was good.
But, I didn’t think so.
Life was also not good.
But, I thought it was. 
 
Sunday.
A usual day.
Husband at work.
Children at school.
I’m on a break from work 
And my house duties.
 
Sunday.
A regular day.
Getting a manicure.
At a new location.
We chat, as usual.
Then he calls.

Sunday. 
Just a day. 
A phone call comes in.
Like any phone call.
Except 
It’s not.
 
Sunday. 
Just the beginning 
Of my week. 
Until that call
Changed
It all. 
 
Sunday. 
Another day to dwell.
Seeing news of another 
Terror attack
While my nails get 
Painted.
 
Sunday. 
A day I once liked, 
Turned to hell 
In one split second 
In one short call.
 
Sunday.
Another day, another call.
“Hi”, I say.
My husband is almost in tears 
“Ari was in a terror attack.”
The words pierce my heart.
 
Sunday.
Things will never be the same.
“It was him,” he says, talking about his brother.
He goes to find out more and hangs up.
I scream.
I cry.
 
Sunday. 
My manicurist tries to calm me.
She knows me.
She doesn’t know what to do.
I go to the bathroom 
I scream to God to save him.
 
Sunday. 
Day of terror. 
I continue with the manicure 
While scrolling through my phone,
Reading the news.
Then I scream. Again.
 
Sunday. 
I feel sudden loss for the first time.
I am confronted with trauma,
With death,
With grief.
I hate God.
 
Sunday.
God and I are done.
How can I continue to trust in Him?
When He has taken him away
From his family,
From us.
 
Sunday. 
Husband calls.
Sounds surprisingly calm and I don’t know why. 
“It’s over,” he says.
I’m dying inside. All over again. 
“I’m so, so sorry, my love,” I say.
 
Sunday. 
Not an ordinary day.
Our world has been turned upside down.
A dreaded night of PTA meetings
Turns into delivering horrific news to the children 
Attending a funeral in middle of the night.
Every attendee, heartbroken.
We want to be anywhere but there.
 
Sunday night.
A night never to be forgotten.
Forever remembered. 
The day a man, a father, a son 
A brother, a person with a name 
Embodied its meaning 
To its fullest.
 
Lion.
 
Sunday night.
Ari is buried.
Ari becomes our lion, the meaning of his name
Never to be forgotten 
His image and messages
Encompass the world 
Like never before.
 
Monday.
A broken family. 
A grieving community. 
A hole that cannot be filled. 
An action that cannot be reversed.
A life that will never be the same. 
 
Wednesday. 
3.6 years later 
We meet 
For the fourth time 
To remember 
Our fallen lion 
With the fallen soldiers 
And victims of terror. 
 
It’s Memorial day.
And we remember. 
 
Wednesday.
We stand tall and strong, 
Somber yet hopeful.
White and blue flags 
Waving above us,
Saluting our lion.
 
Wednesday. 
We give our lion 
Our respects 
With our nation,
Mourning together;
Though we mourn individually 
Daily. 
 
Sunday. 
The 16th of September 2018.
We will never forget.
We will always remember.
We will always hurt. 
We will always 
Miss him. 
Our Ari. Our Lion.
 
We remember.