Fitoussi, Matan (Rafael)

Son of Tzipora and Ilan. Born in Tel Aviv on October 11, 1986, to Eli Chai, Almog and Ben, Matan grew up in Be’er Sheva, where he studied in the Otzar HaChaim kindergarten, the Tzabar kindergarten, Keren Hayesod kindergarten, To the TALI elementary school (reinforcement of Jewish studies). He continued his studies at the “Regger” high school in the fourth grade. To his many friends, Matan is remembered with his shyness and smile, and thanks to the joyous Moroccan songs on his annual trips, his friends would gather around him in the back of the bus, so that he would lead the Moroccan music with the guitar. His friend Genia Goffman wrote about Matan’s sportsmanship: “You and I always would have compared who has more muscle, who is stronger, who is more fit, even though I was the winner, but only you could compete with me from all the rest, , In sports lessons you were always the first and did not give up any competition. ” Among the favorite sports activities were giving football and cricket. Osnat Hayoun, the teacher and coordinator of the class, said in an evening in his memory: “I will always remember you beautiful and handsome, comes dressed like a model, no matter that it’s a uniform, so aesthetically pleasing, every hair in the place and the smell is intoxicating. It’s true that you came to meet the guys and not always to learn, but the teachers loved you, they loved you so much, because you were kind, smiling, modest and shy I remember during the preparations for the graduation party, when we barely recruited students because everyone was busy with matriculation exams, you were always available and looking for only an opportunity to help, to help. You have loved all of them, you have stood out in your social skills and everyone loved you, as evidenced by the large number of participants on this evening. ” Vered Fran, the school’s counselor, added: “I met Matan in his senior year in high school, and our relationship was based on deep conversations with a mature soul, who needs advice and a listening ear. To embrace the world and to color it with a smile, I met Matan in the days he was in love, and his heart filled with butterflies, and I met the shy, who gave so much good advice, how to start a relationship and how to protect him … I met Matan Calling me and telling me about his experiences, but I have always known the gift of a joie de vivre, a relentless romantic, who sees with an optimistic optimism. ” Matan liked to spend time at sea with friends, play guitar and sing, he listened to Israeli music and especially to the “Mashina” band. Some of his friends called him a pistachio. “We would sit together and celebrate at home,” Shirley Faber said, “I will never forget all the Moroccan holidays in walks and classes, I would sing and you would be able to speak other languages, you’re funny, I remember you gave me guitar lessons. That I started to study, ran to my home, tried to teach me how to play from sleep, and when I could not “shout” at me in Morocco, I was always patient, caring and loving. His sensitivity is evident from the letters of love he wrote to his friend Sivan. Even when he wrote her a letter of apology for being late for their meeting, he did it with rhymes and delicate love words. Matan was close to his uncles and cousins, whom he met with family meals, holidays and events. Eden, his cousin, said: “I remember that every Saturday we would go to lunch with my grandparents, all the cousins, and always after the food we would go downstairs and play hideouts and prisoners, seven on the wall, Neutral ‘and we would divide into groups … and always with you I wanted to be, andIf we did not get out together, I would get sick! “The family model,” they called him, because he took care of the look, the hairstyle, the love he loved, “I dress as I think fit because I’m the one who dictates the next fashion …” On April 3, 2005, Matan enlisted in the IDF and after basic training he was assigned to a transport battalion in the Logistics Corps. He took a driving course on a heavy vehicle, briefly served as a driver, and among other things he led hazardous materials such as bombs and fuel. The conditions of service and the loneliness of the job led to Matan’s request for a transfer. His application was accepted and he moved to serve as a cook and shift officer in the Mishmar HaNegev Transport Battalion. As a soldier he stood out for his responsibility and his modesty. The company commander, Lieutenant Omri Chen, described him as “Matan was one of the best, most disciplined and beloved soldiers in the battalion, and despite his relative shyness, he conquered everyone because of his guitar playing. One day he complained of sore throats. At first he received a sea pill for pain and antibiotics, but to no avail. He was referred to the emergency room where cancer was discovered. Mazal Akab, his aunt, spoke of the moments of receiving the bitter news: “The hope disappeared in the second, and from there it began a long and tedious process to take you out with complete faith, together with the whole family, that you will not only get out of it. “And how did you get this?” “Lieutenant Chen testified:” Matan always was He was careful to keep in touch with his comrades in the battalion even after he was attached to the 2nd Battalion. Despite the leukemia he suffered from, the smile did not descend from his face for even a moment. He waited long to get the rank of Staff Sergeant, and when the deadline came, the battalion commander and I bought him a guitar as a gift. We went to his home and gave him the ranks personally. ” Instead of enjoying the rank of First Sergeant at the end of the service and taking leave, Matan was in the hospital. Painful, frustrated, he wrote then: “I ask the world, why am I in the situation I am in although I did not hurt anyone and tried to go as straight as possible?” His family accompanied him through his pain during eight months of suffering, pain, weeping and sadness. They wrapped him lovingly, visited him in the hospital, and shared the joy and great hope when he seemed to have overcome the disease after transplanting a bone marrow. During the illness, there was a great rapprochement between Matan and his family. The uncles, Iris and Yona Sassonker, spoke about this: “You fight and we prayed and we became so connected, we got to know you, we learned who you are and what you love, what makes you feel good, what frightens you, We’ve all fallen in love with you more and more and we did not have enough of you, we will never have enough of you … The man you let us know is amazing, charming, funny, soft, thoughtful, loving, caring … We are part of you, from your family, near you … We are born deep in our hearts every minute with you, every memory, every smile, every word, every word … And you are gone, before our eyes the beholder “During the months of his stay in the hospital, Matan wrote songs and sometimes composed them on the guitar, which in his honor also composed one song:” My guitar, a beloved guitar that gives me strength / gives me hope / guitar that makes me happy / And from the moment you touched / I could not stop / look, discover, learn /Every point, every comma / enjoy every moment you play / a good feeling that can not imagine / the wonderful thing I could ask / every sound string in the second conquers. “In one of the songs of hope written by Matan, he expressed wishes of his heart:” And maybe a day will come / Re / I will enjoy. I can / will not ever let me fall // maybe and maybe / everything will re-grow / blossom indefinitely // maybe one day, everyone will know how to listen / even to evil / and why is it darkening / maybe just stop To speak / and that someone will give himself / herself to another. “In his songs of hope, he expressed optimism:” Never break / never surrender / even when it stabs / even at the height of the danger … // if only a drop of joy is given / This big day will come / And everything will be resolved // Never give up / Never despair / The thought that there is no chance / It will just burn you like fire Never despair / never give up / smile conqueror “On December 25, 2007, a few days after undergoing a bone marrow transplant, Matan was released from regular service, and at the end of the week preceding his release, he spent time at his aunt Mazal’s home.” On Friday, when I cooked in the kitchen, “After that taste you told us: ‘The taste and the smell is not the same, because I have no taste in my mouth …'” That evening Matan went out with his cousins ​​Gila and Asaf, and they sat in a restaurant on the beach, laughed, On that weekend, Shimon Ekev (Bubi), his cousin, also said: “We were happy when the news came that you had overcome the cursed disease, how wonderful! A sense of victory! At last you were allowed to go on a weekend break or in your language the soldiers ‘Hamoshush’ … On Thursday night you went to Rishon Letzion to fulfill your dream at the hospital, to have a beer in the sea! You came back after midnight, I will not forget your radiant face Happy, the smile from ear to ear that can not be removed, the aura that was above your head … You started to tell your experiences, share the laughs you ran at sea … “But unfortunately, your optimism so daring to go to war against all odds did not last long. “Shai, a childhood friend, described the relationship that had been preserved between them over the years, since the birthdays were celebrated together. As boys, they shared parties, shared sadness and joy, the initial experiences like the first kiss. “In the army I moved away from being a fighter,” Shai said, “but I will not forget your support of me … You have come to the Gaza border to see that I am healthy, the congratulations of enlistment, and you promised to take care of me. “Soroka,” which began on December 30, 2007, died of his illness during his service on May 13, 2008. He was twenty-two years old when he fell, and was laid to rest in the military section of the Be’er Sheva cemetery And his three daughters – Eli, Almog and Ben – and his cousin Eden Sassonker separated and remembered: “My waist is my family’s pato, since I was born and I remember how much I loved you all in the family. I always said you were my best cousin and I was always excited to see you … every time anew! Because since I was little I said that I was marrying you, no matter what was going to happen (even if we were cousins) … Who would call me Cichanda (for walking a lot)? And who would laugh at me? And who am I to say that he is a ‘scapegoat’? … how you lacked examination, and at Liraz’s wedding. We were so waiting for this day. And you said we’d be happy! We waited for it to stand in the middle of the circle (as in every event), so that it would imitate us – all the girls dancing … “Amit Gal-Tov wrote in a book in memory of Matan:”But you are in this small group …” Yehuda our son added: “Matan, a pure soul, how much do you miss us … You were honest, decent, beloved, and exemplary friend … You were A person with a joy of life, you have always cared for everyone and love. “My father, Ben-Gira, mentioned” wonderful periods from school, from birthdays, from the annual walks, and how not to – the trips to Eilat. Remember how we used to photograph all the time, looking for a flattering pose, and another. Thank you for the wonderful friendship … “One year after his death, Cissie said,” You were my best friend, more than any friend, or family member, the only one I could count on, to tell all I had about my heart and listen to your advice. You were the most real person I ever met, I always told you that … you were a very important part of my life and you will always be in my heart … I will remember all your goodness, the beautiful face, you are always before my eyes … You were an influential factor “We are gathering today … to tell and show what kind of person you were, so that everyone could know who our Matan was: full of joie de vivre, laughing, I love a camera that sings all the time and enjoys the guys … As if we were just standing in the hospital yesterday and telling us: ‘This is friends, I’m getting out of it. We’ll have a big party. ‘ And how you were always anxious to strengthen us where we would strengthen you, clinging to life as only a man like you could hold on to. We would like to share with you a little who was giving when he was with us friends. You could always find him in the sea, sitting with a bottle of beer in one hand and the other guitar he loved so much … Even when he left the transplant when we asked him, ‘Did you feel anything?’ He said: ‘I put on headphones, I heard music and I did not feel anything.’ About a month or so before you left us, you asked to see our films, our friends, who were recording at parties during high school, and of course we came and showed them to you. You were so happy, you just enjoyed it and asked us to arrange an evening where we all would sit and watch them together. Unfortunately, we did not achieve this request, but today we do it in your honor and feel your presence with us. “