Lately, I took some time off from writing to concentrate on my mother, who was very ill. She passed away on February 25. It was very sad, but peaceful. She was almost 80 years old. I spent a month in Holland to look after her, say goodbye, and help my brother arrange the cremation, spread the ashes and vacate the house.

I returned to Israel an orphan. But nothing could prepare me for the news I got just a week later. News that would pitch me headfirst back into the war, into the world of pain and terror and true crime.

The oldest son of our friend and neighbour, Shirley Garfinkel, was killed in a terror attack in the West Bank on March 22. His name was Ilay Garfinkel and he was 21 years old.

Ilay was a soldier and he was fighting in Gaza for several months. It was a relief when he was finally pulled out and stationed in the West Bank. I remember thinking, thank god, that’s one less young person I have to worry about.

How wrong we were.

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Ilay was killed in a sniper attack. A terrorist started shooting at a minibus carrying soldiers near the Jewish settlement Dolev. The battle against the sniper lasted for five hours, until he was finally located and eliminated. Ilay was killed in this operation. Seven other soldiers were injured.

So on Sunday, I went to Ilay’s funeral. I cannot put into words just how agonizing this funeral was. The screams and cries of Ilay’s mother are still ringing in my ears. I have three young sons myself, and the idea of losing one of them is beyond terrifying. For a few moments during that funeral, I experienced the agony of Ilay’s mother. It was like staring into an abyss and knowing you are going over the edge.

I haven’t spoken to Shirley yet, but we heard her speak in an interview on the radio. She sounded so strong and full of hope. But I have heard her cry, and I know how much she suffers inside. And with her Ilay’s father, his siblings, his girlfriend and his many friends.

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This is Shirley with her five children. She and her ex-husband are divorced and her new partner is my neighbour. Shirley is a yoga teacher and a very special, beautiful person. She became a good friend of my sister-in-law and she is loved by many in our kibbutz.

I didn’t know Ilay personally, but after seeing the crowds at his funeral and hearing the outpouring of grief from so many, I know he must have been just as friendly and social and beautiful as his mother. On Ynet, Shirley said: “He was the best mentor for life. I was a young mother and he taught me everything. His presence everywhere was magnetic. Kind and humble, a handsome boy, I would look at him and not believe he was mine.”

His friends told the newssite: “Ilay was a significant part of the group, a handsome boy, a wise and talented man with a great and good soul, the salt of the earth.”

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This shining star of a boy has been ripped away from his loved ones much, much too early. How will they go on? Their lives will be forever changed. Losing a child is the single most painful thing possible.

The ripple effect of a death like this, a violent murder, is immense. His entire community has been affected, schools, friends, a football club. And all the friends and acquaintances of his parents, his siblings, his girlfriend. His mother’s partner and their family. My sister-in-law, who lives in Berlin. And so many others that I don’t even know about. This is the effect that one murder has.

Rest in peace, Ilay. I hope you’re in an amazing place now. And that one day, your mother will meet you again.