It started this morning.  I promised I would not be another of the victims of Hamas psychological manipulation and I would not watch their events.  

But the grocer shoved his phone at me – “see, these monsters!” and I glimpsed the macabre ceremony as it was taking place.  By the time I came home, Ezi was chuckling over the fact that the coffins had been locked and the wrong keys were sent.  

So I gave up and began watching the horror of the families of the hostages waiting for the news.

As much as I said I would not be manipulated, I let myself mourn with the others.  There was no alternative.

We gave up even on eggs benedict because our stomachs were so upset.  Even though I ate a pint of ice cream, nothing was working. 

I’m a part of the grieving and there is no way to protect myself from it.