It is October 7, a year later and yet everything is a bit shifted and not exactly aligning. Last year October 7, took place on Simchat Torah , one of the happiest days of the Jewish calendar. This year it takes place during the limbo days of anxiety between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur.
Next to the bed in the room where we were sleeping were large windows that looked over this playground.
Last night, because I am sick with a cold that has me coughing all night and don't want to wake my husband with my hacking, I slept next to the large window in our living room.
As I went to sleep I thought of that other view
and how I am no longer in Ashkelon.
As the horror unfolded around us I updated our friends and family both here in this blog and on Facebook.( You can search back a year for posts about our time under fire.) Most of the time during the two and a half days were were in the safe room (before we were evacuated by our son's employer) we were frightened but felt more or less safe-ish. There were three different moments though during those two and a half days when it seemed more than likely that we would die.
When we got back to New York we spoke about our experiences a great deal. As the war has dragged on I have spoken about our time in the safe room and getting evacuated less and less. The story has moved on from those early days, and so much has happened. It is time to hear the experiences of others.
I think every day about family and friends whose children and grandchildren are serving in the Israeli Army. I think about the stress that their families are under every minute of every day.
Our nephew has been called up to be a firefighter in the Golan. The rockets shot by Hezbollah and Iran are igniting summer parched fields in the Golan. Yesterday, my husband shared a video that our nephew took as he was extinguishing a smoldering field. The field was littered with a herd of dead cows.
I am during these days both here in New York and in Ashkelon with my dear ones in Israel.
I know that lots of Americans say that they know exactly what needs to be done to stop this war. They think that there is a simple solution that will create peace. I am no expert but I do know that there are no simple solutions.
In the middle of the night before we were evacuated we learned that each of us could only bring a carry on bag. I repacked all I had packed for a three week trip into a backpack. I left behind my two favorite pairs of boots, a red Lucchese pair and a pair in green lizard and a belt with a sterling silver buckle set with an amethyst cabochon. I can no longer remember all of the rest of the contents of my large duffle. My son left behind all of the lovely things he had acquired to make his apartment comfortable and some gifts he had been given and his great indulgence of a fancy foldable bike, something he had wanted for several years.
My husband had packed light for the trip . He had taken along a pair of fancy socks given to him by one of our kids. One of his socks made it home and the other is still in Ashkelon. The state of our stuff is a mirror to where our heads are.
My brain is skittery today. There are times I can focus on THIS DAY and times that I have to look away to spare my brain.
So hard, no words can convey how I feel as I read this, Sarah. I pray for peace every day.
ReplyDeleteBetsey...so hard indeed.
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