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Of Births & Deaths - My birthday was one week ago last Monday on March 24. It was a landmark birthday, a birthday of deep reflection. I had the day off from work and I asked anyone who wanted to celebrate with me to please donate to my friends in Gaza. I did not get much sleep the night before, up too late, too worried, too much happening. After answering my morning messages from friends in Gaza, I tried to rest for a couple of hours. When I awoke and checked my phone, it was only to learn about the targeted killing and murder of beloved journalist, beloved son of Beit Hanoun, Hossam Shabat. Another journalist assassinated, another strong voice targeted, another beloved Palestinian gone, taken through extreme cruelty, brutality, and violence.

The shock, the grief, the overwhelming emotion felt and expressed by so many filled the day. I thought about the ways in which compounded grief can build and consume, triggering more memories of other losses, releasing unprocessed and ongoing traumas, and causing buried emotions to resurface as though the wounds are still new and fresh.

My birthday was a day of sadness, mourning, and grief. And it was also a day of deep appreciation and profound gratitude. I spent the day trying to raise more support for fundraisers to support families in Gaza, and I also received the most thoughtful and generous messages, photos, wishes and greetings from friends in Gaza, and from allies around the world. Messages, photos, words that touched my heart and soul on the deepest possible level. And I thought about how strange it is this world can simultaneously hold such contradictions and oppositions. How can it be a home to people who are so generous, so thoughtful, so kind and loving, and at the same time there exists people who are capable of committing and supporting horrific violence and cruelty? 

My birthday wish last Monday is one that I still have today: it is for us to do everything we can to support the people in Gaza who are trying survive, as we also do anything & everything to end the genocide & the occupation. May Palestine be free. May all oppressed people everywhere be free. May there be justice. May this  world be transformed. 

Every moment that passes and we are not able to stop this, we lose more loved ones, more lives, more universes, more possibilities of promising futures. And these losses are not just devastating to us and to the world, they are compounded by more trauma and grief. Immeasurable losses. Bottomless caverns of grief.

Everything was already urgent and dangerous because of Israel’s most recent illegal blockade that began on March 2, which cut off access to food, water, medicine, fuel, and urgently needed supplies of every kind. Despair was already widespread and life was already too hard. But with the return of the extreme violence and bombing, everyone is now also back to living in constant fear and danger, while also trying to survive the harshest and most extreme living conditions. 

People are back to trying to soothe their children and babies who cry as the bombs fall. Back to trying to dig out their friends and families from beneath the rubble of what collapsed structures remain with their bare hands. Back to not sleeping, not being able to rest, never being able to relax. Back to daily near-death experiences while also mourning the loss of more loved ones and wondering who will be next. 

There are not enough hospitals or medical staff to help the sick and wounded, and what there is are not easily accessible, not stocked, and staffed by medical workers who are also severely fatigued and traumatized. Food supplies are running low and the violence only worsens. The World Food Program has warned that backstock of any remaining food supplies will run out in a little over a week. Today bakeries in Gaza are announcing their closures due to lack of flour. Hunger and malnutrition are causing serious health problems, and the constant stress from living in extreme danger is taking a toll on people's hearts, minds, and physical bodies. We are running out of time, time we already did not have. 

Yesterday I wrote and posted an update to the fundraiser page for my friends Yanis and his wife and their sweet son Mahdi. In it I explained that despite the constant danger and harsh living conditions: 

"Yanis and his family are doing everything they can to take care of each other, to survive, to find and create moments of relief and joy in the midst of the suffering. Today is Eid, and many in Gaza have been calling it the 'Eid of sadness.' Yanis and his wife have tried to make it special for their sweet son Mahdi, but there is a heaviness in their hearts as many children were targeted and massacred by Israeli forces this morning.

The grief is immeasurable, and for parents especially, their grief is accompanied by a fear and worry of what will happen next, and how they can provide protection for their children when everything is out of their control, and people are targeted no matter where they are. Yanis and his family had a very frightening experience just yesterday when the tent next to theirs was bombed, and as Yanis explained, 'Death and I are neighbors.' The reality is, there is no safe place in Gaza."

Everything we do matters, and nothing we have done has been enough. We must keep doing all we can to support the people trying to survive, while also doing everything we can to end this. I don't know what it will finally take. I don't know that anyone does. But the more of us who are trying, the closer we are to finding out. 

We must do more, and we must do it now. This urgency cannot be overstated. 

[Image Information: Original image and text graphic can be found online at Al Jazeera: https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2025/3/24/al-jazeera-journalist-killed-in-israeli-strikes-in-northern-gaza]