‘Bring me his other half’
“All the way to the hospital, I carried half of my son while the other half lay on the ambulance stretcher. I do not know how a father’s heart can hold such a moment.”
Dr. Munir al-Bursh, the director-general of the Gaza Health Ministry, has written a gut-wrenching account of collecting the remains of his martyred son, Baseer, after he was split in two by a targeted Israeli strike last Saturday.
During the course of the Israeli genocide in the Gaza Strip, dismembered bodies have become a recurring theme as the Israelis drop thousand-pound bombs indiscriminately on civilians. Parents have endured the pain of gathering the remains of their children after they have been either shattered into uncountable pieces or turned into minced meat after being run over by tanks.
“Baseer, I gathered what I could of your body,” the good doctor wrote in a moving elegy. “But how do I put my heart back together without you?”
Here is Dr. al-Bursh’s account in full:
Bring Me His Other Half, My Son
What does a father feel when he carries half of his son in a piece of cloth?
When my son Baseer was struck, the missile tore his body in two. We rushed him into an ambulance. His head was beside me on the stretcher, but I could not bear to stay in the back. I asked the driver to stop so I could sit beside him.
I stepped out with difficulty, leaning on a paramedic. As the driver’s assistant rose to give me his seat, a piece of cloth holding my son’s remains fell from his lap. I saw my son’s legs and internal organs on the ground. I bent down, gathered them with my own hands, wrapped them again, and held them in my lap.
All the way to the hospital, I carried half of my son while the other half lay on the ambulance stretcher. I do not know how a father’s heart can hold such a moment. I only knew that Baseer was my son, and I had to stay with him.
When we arrived, I stepped out carrying the cloth. Someone took it from me. I turned to my son as he was lifted from the ambulance and said: “Bring me his other half, my son, so I can put his body back together.”
Baseer, I gathered what I could of your body. But how do I put my heart back together without you? Once, I held you as a little boy and worried that even a cold breeze might hurt you. Then I held half of you in a piece of cloth, while the world went on as though nothing had happened.
O Allah, You know he is my son, and that I carried every part of him I could. Accept him among the martyrs, and reunite me with him in Your Paradise, where no reunion ends in parting, and no father is called to carry half of his child.
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