Letter on death in Gaza

"As missiles rain over Gaza, I can only imagine what my grandfather is thinking. Much of the territory's civilian infrastructure, including police stations, universities, mosques and homes, has been decimated. In the Jabalya refugee camp, five sisters, the eldest aged seventeen and the youngest only four, were killed on Monday as they slept in their beds when an Israeli air strike hit a mosque by their home. Their parents told reporters they assumed they were safe, since houses of worship typically are not military targets. The cemetery where the girls were buried was filled to capacity, so they were placed in three graves. A United Nations spokesperson said the killing is a "tragic illustration that this bombardment is exacting a terrible price on innocent civilians." The bereaved father expressed the sentiments of so many in Gaza in an interview with the Washington Post. "I don't have anything to do with any Palestinian faction. I have nothing to do with Hamas or anyone. I am just an ordinary person." A few days after the attack, I found out that the girls were relatives of our family friends in Florida. I asked my mother why my grandfather did not leave Gaza while its gates were still open. Why he didn't leave before the siege, before life became unbearable, and before this latest bombardment. "Because that's where he feels he belongs," she said. "He was always homesick before. Gaza is where his parents were buried. It's where he wants to die."" (thanks Laila)