There are no words for the loss of a child. There are sentences — funerals, memorials, condolences — but no language wide enough to hold the silence that follows.
In the months after October 7, as the lists of the dead grew longer, Israel became a nation of mourners. Among the most vulnerable were the bereaved parents — those whose lives split into "before" and "after" in a single unbearable moment.
Mental Health First Aid Israel has been monitoring what it calls the quiet crisis: the rising suicide risk among grieving parents who feel life has lost its meaning. Behind every act of resilience celebrated publicly, there are others — quiet, private struggles, hidden behind politeness, prayer, or fatigue.
The danger is not only in the grief itself, but in the loneliness that follows it.
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