A Mother's Story: Finding Light After Loss

"While hiding in the bushes, Oron texted me that he was in Tel Aviv and would come home once the rockets stopped," begins Rina, Oron Bailin's mother, who was killed in the horrific massacre. She had no idea he was actually under a bush at the Re'im party, fearing what was to come. As her only son, who cared so deeply for her, he likely wanted to spare her the agony of those moments, hoping for the best outcome. Sadly, the reality was different: "We didn't get to say goodbye," she shares with pain.

Aiming High and Seeing Others

The journey to the party was filled with obstacles, but Oron overcame them all. "He wanted to take my car, which had some issues at the time, so he went on his electric bike to a friend's place. His friend was asleep and didn't wake up, but Oron found two other girls to join. In the morning, when the missile attacks started, my mom and I tried calling him several times, but he didn't answer. Later, he sent the message saying he was in the area and would come once things calmed down. We didn’t know he was at the party, and only his friend who stayed asleep the previous night understood the situation. He contacted Oron and stayed on the phone until 11 AM, at which point the call cut off."

During that last conversation, Oron shared his situation. "He said he was in the bushes, scared, with gunshots in the background. His friend encouraged him to hide, hoping for a rescue. We'll never know what happened after that. For six days, Oron was listed as missing until they came to inform us they had found his body. It was intact, in good condition, which was later seen as a great gift."

How do you cope with not having had a chance to say goodbye?

"It's awful, the difficulty is immense. A part of me still thinks 'any moment now he'll come back.' Unfortunately, I also wasn't able to properly say goodbye at the funeral. They advised me to leave before many people arrived, and I have regrets from those moments. Oron and I had a close bond, and now—with each passing Shabbat—it gets harder. I flip through photo albums, reminiscing about how wonderful raising him was, and the pain is immense."

How do you deal with the void left in your life?

"I've been left with my mother, who helped so much in raising him, and for her, I get up each day. My dog, who showers me with love, gives me strength. And there are simple life moments, like going for a walk or engaging in something enjoyable, that give me strength. This loss is overwhelming, inexplicable. But there are moments that bring comfort. For instance, there was a spiritual side to Oron; he tried to put on tefillin every day. He had a religious coworker and asked him many questions, a search for truth within him. Also, knowing that Oron is now in a higher place, a place many would want to reach, brings me solace. My sister dreamed she's holding his school notebook and wants to embrace him, but he told her, 'No, I don't want that, I'm in a better place,' and left."

What can you tell us about Oron?

"He was smart, funny, joyful, with such a good heart. I felt I had the perfect child, never any issues. He was the one who gave me the strength to live, and I thanked Hashem every day for giving him to me. Over the years, I faced various medical challenges, and he was always by my side, helping. Oron was the man of the house, knew how to fix and organize anything needed. He had many responsibilities on his shoulders, and he didn't shy away from them, truly taking on that role. He combined a strive for excellence with incredible sensitivity to others. As a child, he taught himself magic tricks and entertained us all. Even then, if he saw a child struggling socially or academically, he would step in to help. In kindergarten, the teacher paired him with another child who was having a hard time socially, so Oron, with his good heart, could bring him into the friend group."

If Oron could speak to you now, after all that's happened, what do you think he would say?

"I think he would say he regrets going to that party and regrets saying he was at a friend's. He knew I didn't like such parties, especially when they were in the south. He would also want me to continue my life and find joy, because we have no choice, we must go on. Hashem gave me 24 and a half years of light, and I thanked Him for them every day. Now he continues with me in my heart wherever I go."