I’d like to share a glimpse into my social media feed in the last day or two to give those who might live a bit farther afield an understanding for what our lives feel like.
On Friday, I wrote,
“Holding back tears….until she wasn’t…my next door neighbor told me that they just got a call from their son. He told them he loved them and to please convey to each of his siblings how much he loved them. And I held her and we cried for her son, for all of our sons, who are heading into Gaza.”
|A recent protest in Turkey against Israel|
And in Seattle they are screaming about blood libels and calling us murderers.
In the grocery store on Friday, I ran into a friend. I asked her how the wedding plans were coming for next month for her son. She replied, “Um…good good. We are trying to stay on track. You know he’s in Gaza right now, so we are just hoping they will still get married next month.”
And in Paris they are throwing Molotov cocktails at shuls and screaming “Death to the Jews!”
|Yes, this is Paris in 2014|
And I see on the newsfeed that “Venezuela’s socialist government condemned Israeli strikes in Gaza on Saturday as a policy of genocide that could not be justified as like-for-like warfare.”
Yehuda tells me Saturday night, when he comes back from Bnei Akiva, his youth group, about the long list of boys whose fathers have left. He said that one friend is very worried because last time this happened he didn’t see his father for six weeks. And I tell Yehuda to try to be gentle with these boys – extra nice to them.
And then, last night, we had the honor of celebrating with our dear friends, at a Mesibat Geus, as they are about to send their 20 year old to the army. He enters on Wednesday, and there is a tradition here to have a large celebratory party before going into the army. He is going to be a paratrooper and at the party everyone talks about how incredibly proud we are of him – how honored he should be to be joining the ranks of those who have the privilege to protect us and serve our country.
And I cry.
This morning, we wake up to more soldiers who have died.
|We just lost 2cnd Lt. Bar Rahav (21), engineering corps.|
“Thanks to all of you who have asked about the boys. We have not heard from them since the ground invasion began.”
And then another mom writes,
“Just got a message from my son’s unit of stuff they need. These boys have been in since the kidnaping and went straight from chevron to azza almost six weeks. They need boxer shorts, army socks, energy bars, dried fruit, nuts, gummy candies, cookies, triple AAA batteries and wipes.”
So I drop off 300 shekel before work that family in the States wanted me to use for a good purpose.
And the bombs continue raining down on Southern Israel. There are sirens in Ashkelon, Ashdod, Beer Sheva and on and on and on.
And a tunnel – the largest discovered so far – is uncovered at 10 am going from Gaza to Netiv Haasarah.
And then I see this incredibly brave young man, Daniel Mael, battling against a sea of hate in Boston, when they went to a rally to try to voice their opinion and to stand with Israel.
“On July 17th 2014, my son returned from the states with his Israeli bride from a five week honeymoon. Within the hour of his arrival back in Israel he received his next present a Tzav 8 or emergency call up to the army. Quickly we packed him up and within 24 hours of his return he was on the border of Gaza.”
Another soldier from the yishuv to add to the bursting list.
And all this before 10:30 in the morning.
This is life in Israel.
So, if you talk to me and I seem distracted it’s because I AM distracted.
I’m distracted by life in Israel, by trying to keep our heads above water, by finding the money to help the children in the South, the soldiers on the field, the families in the yishuv without fathers at the moment, the pina chama that has run out of cakes.
I’m distracted by the newsfeed on Facebook that simply….won’t…..stop.
Minute after minute after minute.
Second after second after second.
And by the ever-present danger for myself, my children and those around me.
And when my three year old wakes up this morning, looks at me and says, “I love you in the world Mommy” I try to hide my hot, angry, desperate tears as I choke back “I love you in the world too buddy.”
And I take him in my arms for all of the moms who took their three year olds in their arms – their three year olds who are now soldiers, deep within Gaza, fighting for all of us, for our freedom, our right to sit on the beach in peace, our right to be Jews in the Jewish homeland without rockets and terrorists and murdered school boys.
And as I hug him and hold him tight, I glance over his shoulder at my iPad, at my newsfeed that just keeps going and going and going.
Neve Daniel, Israel