Jan 8^th 2017.

This is the first time I write to you from your original home – Melbourne. A couple of weeks ago, mum, Noam, Evie and I came back here, to the place you were born in 6 years ago last week. Yes, last week you turned 6 lally, and we held a small, quiet celebration for you at Nona & Pa’s house. We had lunch, and a lemon cake with some candles, and we sang a birthday song for you. Six. You were supposed to be 6. A big boy. Almost ready to start school. I am dying to know how you’d look now you beautiful boy. Would you still have long blond curls? Or would you prefer to cut your hair short? I know you would still have those good eyes and cheeky, somewhat shy smile. I am trying to listen to your sweet voice inside my head. A voice that by now would be speaking in fluent Hebrew to me, just like your brother Noam. I wonder whether you would still be into kicking a soccer ball, and whether your great motor skills would be used for other sports too.

It’s nice to be back in Melbourne, where your story started so beautifully 6 years ago not far from where I am writing these lines. It’s nice to know that we are back where you, Noam, and in fact your baby sister Evie were all conceived, and yet where we don’t have so many memories of you. Mum and I didn’t want to continue living somewhere that is so full of memories of you. We don’t want to make too many new memories, memories in which you aren’t with us, in those places that you lived in, like Canberra, and Tel-Aviv.

We talk about you everyday Lally, and we look at your pictures, and videos, and we think about you all the time. We miss you so much, and we wish you could be here to see how adorable your little sister Evie is. She is about to turn one, in just a few days. You almost share a birthday you know. She is so cute Eli, and she looks a lot like Noam. But when she smiles, I can definitely see your cute smile my angel, and I can’t wait to see some of your personality shining through her too. Noam is beautiful too. You would have admired how big, and smart, and kind, and friendly he is. He is about to start going to Year 3 here in Melbourne, and I think is very excited about it. He misses you very much too. Noam loves you so much Lally, and for him, not having you around is very sad, and very tough, but don’t worry – he is such a hero, and such a strong boy your older brother, and has been luckily blessed with amazing coping skills. Look after him Lally, guide him with your wisdom, your warmth, your strength.

We had an amazing bench prepared for Gan Hachalomot, that is all you Lally. It’s green metal with some timber to seat on, and best of all, it has Mufasa’s face engraved on top of it, and his paw prints all along the side of the bench. When Meirav, and Ayelet, and Khelly at the Gan saw it, they all said that the bench was so clearly you. That your spirit is all over this bench. Your little friends from the Gan will now be able to climb and seat on this beautiful bench, which was placed in the courtyard of the Gan. You would have absolutely loved it Lally, and thanks to you, many children, little sick warriors, will enjoy this bench for many years to come, and will no doubt enjoy and feel confident as you guard them.

Lally, mum and I miss you terribly. I hope you are safe, and peaceful, and that being one with the universe means that you will forever be here with us, in the little things around us, in every moment of our lives. I keep praying Lally. Praying that there is more to life and death than we know. That what I evolved to believe in is wrong. That I will in one way or another be able to hug you again, and be one with you. We are yet again embarking on a brand new chapter, with many new and exciting things, and we promise to do our best to make this a good and happy chapter. I promise to work hard and help other people who are suffering from an illness make the most out of their lives, and be as happy as possible. We will also find out what we can do for other children here in Australia and in Israel, who like you, develop this cruel disease, to make sure we come closer, one day at a time, to making the dream a reality. The day in which beautiful children like you don’t have to leave us so soon, and other parents, siblings, families and friends have to live through the unspeakable pain of losing a child.

I love you so much Eli.

Aba.