By Tzipi Meir, Amirs mother

Ever since disaster struck us, on the 8th of February 2000, my eyes and ears have been open wide trying to find answers, trying to understand.
I asked myself 'why? why couldn't we predict this? why can't this fate be changed?! why did it have to be Amir? so many signs around me, are they misleading me?'.
It was a year that began with a horrific blow and continued with a whole lot of doing.
It may have been just by chance that some meetings, wishes and ideas came together to produce a powerful monument in the Presidents garden in Ra'anana. And I ask you, was this really sheer chance or a case of hidden guidance?
Was it just by chance that Menashe Kadishman (man of kadish), an artist, appeared in our lives during these hard times and donated a statue in the memory of Amir?
Was it just by chance that Amir's sister Rotem, during her art studies at Metro West highschool came across Kadishman in a book after which he appeared in her harsh reality and draws her a sheep?
Was it just by chance that the sculptures name, Menashe (from sheep), paints sheep but for our little prince no one drew a sheep to take his place as a sacrifice?
Was it just by chance that Kadishman asked Rotem to choose the statue's outline? and Rotem chose almost immediatly the one that stands in the garden, and which we later discovered it named "And my brother is silent"?
Was ir just by chance that the making of the statue was inspired by a poem by Amir Gilbo'a?
Was it just by chance that the statue was placed in the Presidents garden, a garden where Amir and his friends spent hours of their time and where they still do?
Was it just by chance that the finest craftsmen in their fields came together to help, advise and contribute just when we needed them?

And as proof for that meeting and special cases, there stands an amazingly powerful monument, as if we didn't even bother.

And many more signs before and after that logic refuses to accept as another coninsidence.
And to me it sounds like everything's being arranged by some sort of expert coordinator just to prove there is life beyond, so I'm giving him a stage.
And to you my brothers in pain, I wish you find signs from your loved ones because they are undoubtebly being sent for you to hear.
And about Amir!
I'm told he's gone, how hard and I can't believe, he seems to have just gone on a trip and will some day return.
And maybe I'll go to him, meet him at some far away place.
And it's inconceivable.
A smiling face calls me from a silhouette projected infront of my eyes, "I'm here and now I'm with you!". Believe that! and it's stronger than me. I don't resist because I want to believe it's my Amir.
My good son, your face I will always remember! your mischievous nature, your improvisations, champion of nonsense.
how easy it was to raise you as a child, almost entirely free of illness of hardship and as a baby you were filled with smiles.
Eating, drinking, playing, laughing, almost never crying, the kind who makes life happier. Bringing in stray cats, stray dogs, a boy of the family, of friends, of joy. It was like we gave birth to a boy who needs to live life to it's fullest in a frenzy of enjoying, feeling, trying.
It's Amir who doesn't forget birthdays, a caring soul who calls to make sure, who asks if he can help.
Amir,
you're a part of my heart I will cherish. A part I will let no one break.
Signs signs. Asking for reassurances, show me you're around.
Forgive me for asking them of you, for never stopping to ask, that's how I am, a nagging mother. And you keep telling me in my mind "See the difference I've made. See the greatest sign of all, the monument, as if everyone was summoned to make good of the task, and I'm here with you and you can't believe".