When words of consolation fall on deaf ears

It merited a modest mention in the Israeli media, and went unmentioned outside our borders... an IDF soldier in the Givati Brigade, 20 year old Staff Sgt. Liran Banai (Z"L), died Sunday morning of wounds he sustained during a routine patrol along the Gaza border last week.

He and his comrades had been driving along the Israeli side of the border near Kibbutz Eyn HaShloshah when a bomb was detonated directly under their vehicle.  As rescue workers arrived at the scene, the Palestinians across the border sprung a well planned ambush of sniper fire and mortars.  It was only at the risk of many lives that the dead and wounded were able to be evacuated from the scene.

The soldier who had been in the front seat beside Liran was killed instantly, and the soldiers in the rear sustained relatively light injuries.  But although Liran lost both of his legs in the blast, the doctor's kept him alive long after they probably would have given up on another patient.  In fact, by all rights, Liran probably shouldn't have been allowed to serve in a combat unit.  But I'll get to the reason for that in a moment.

Now, I'm no stranger to terrible funerals.  On Friday Zahava and I attended the incredibly difficult funeral of a 16 year old boy who was cut down at Merkaz HaRav.  We stood just a few feet from the small, tallit-wrapped body as the murdered boy's family poured out their grief at his loss... and expressed heartfelt gratitude for the gift of those 16 years they'd been allowed to share with him.  But for all their eloquence, and having received the small relief of saying a proper good-bye, each of those who got up to speak knew that their parting words were, quite literally, falling on deaf ears.

However, in the case of Liran Banai, the parent's he left behind could not eulogize him in a way that would be easily understood, nor easily share their pain with their friends and family.  They couldn't fully appreciate the words of comfort offered by Liran's sister (also a soldier) or by those who gathered to help them bury their only son.

[Update: Contrary to some news reports a helpful commenter has informed me that Liran is survived by a younger brother] 

You see, Liran's parents, Guy and Gila Banai are both deaf mutes whose primary conduits to the world were their son Liran and his surviving sister. 

[Update: While most news reports I read yesterday indicated that Liran's parents could neither hear nor speak, at least one commenter has seen an interview where his father was able to speak.]

While the unimaginable pain of losing a child can sometimes, in some small way, be made manageable through the eloquent expression of anguish... and the salve of neighborly compassion can perhaps help keep the very worst of the grief at bay... Liran Banai's parents remain isolated in a world of silent, perpetual grief.  I don't know how this couple's only son was allowed to be placed in harm's way.

May they somehow be comforted among the mourners for Zion and Jerusalem.

[Update: I have been informed that 'Deaf Mute' is considered derogatory.  I have to admit I don't keep up with all the latest terminology in this field, but I used the exact phrasology found in at least one of the news reports.  I would appreciate it if someone would let me know the more PC way to describe someone who can neither hear nor speak.

One last thought.  Yes, the parent's condition does matter to the depth of this tragedy.  It may be un-PC to say so, but nothing anyone can tell me will convince me otherwise. ]