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I know the look; I’ve seen it before. Many times. Utter sadness. You try to smile, but the muscles just do not cooperate. Many times, over the nearly six years, I have seen that face, and I saw it last night. A communal commemoration of the 10.7 massacre in Israel was held outdoors, and I estimated that approximately 1,000 people attended. One speaker told us of the bravery of her cousin, a soldier in the IDF, who ran towards the shooting, and sadly was killed. A hero indeed. One speaker told us of her personal experiences during the attack, how she saw IDF soldiers killed, how she was shot three times, yet miraculously survived. What I heard even more distinctly was the whimpering, the cries that people tried to silence. A brief video offered personal testimony of several Israelis and tried to promote an atmosphere of resilience and hope. These two key words regularly are called upon in Pittsburgh, both as models of whom we have become and as reminders when we need them.

I really wanted to leave during the commemoration, as it was too much for me, but I felt that I had an obligation to remain until the end. Over the years I have learned the importance of good self-care, knowing when something is too much, and when my well-being is more important. I have not watched any of the videos of 10.7, as I knew that viewing them would be traumatic for me. And last night’s videos were, which is what I expected. I was glad that the anthems were about to be played, signaling the conclusion of the commemoration. As Hatikvah was played by a string quartet, I began singing. Tears just flowed, and I struggled to sing. Perhaps it was a cathartic moment. I’m not sure.

Despite being asked to join in a media session offering comments on several issues, while I appreciated the invitation, I just needed to go home and relax. The self-care system took over and I knew that it was time to leave. I hope that I did not offend anyone by not mingling and offering words of hope or New Year’s greetings, but I just couldn’t. I cannot speak for any other survivor of a mass shooting, but for this survivor, there are times when things become just too much. I can feel it coming on, and as best possible, take the appropriate steps necessary for good self-care. We should all be mindful of how we are doing, and when necessary, do the right things to take care of ourselves. Sadly, this is not over, and no one knows when nor what the resolution might be.

May it be a better year, and may we all merit being sealed to witness it.