Thanksgiving??????

My heart is a prisoner in Gaza.

 07/10/23.    

BRING THEM HOME. NOW

My computer reminds me today is Thanksgiving.  My favorite holiday in America now all but forgotten - no celebrations here, there never were of course. It is a uniquely American celebration.  But today, of all days? The day 50 hostages, mothers and children, were supposed to have been returned.  I am not sure whether I wrote this in any previous post, but I will only believe IN their return if and when it actually happens, and we see it happening. This is beyond cruel, in a series of ongoing cruelty and torture that began on October 7th. 

So, to all of you whom I hold dear in America, enjoy your families, treasure your children, and your parents.  Be thankful for warmth and love and nourishment. Be thankful for the food and the blessings in your life. 

And let us hope and pray they are never taken away.

What next?

 I have not written for over a week. I have been asked (genteelly) for a new entry.  I struggle to put words down - everything just keeps getting steadily worse. The agony of not knowing about the hostages continues.  Their families and supporters have marched to Jerusalem, only to be met by a stony silence, little offers of hope - glimmers that fade almost as soon as they begin. I think I have found a term for this time, or present constant state of being - it is existential agony. Some days I have energy to engage with others, o rin different activities, and some days I don't. Some days I want to talk to people, other days I don't. I am trying to be more accepting of myself in this state of existential agony.  This is an extremely dark time for humanity.

It Just Gets Worse

How difficult it is to describe the ongoing grind of war.   It is difficult to bear the constant assault of those protesting against Israel all over the world.  These protests and cries against us are almost as frequent as the barrage of missiles sent our way. Apparently these are no longer mentioned in newspapers overseas.  The displacement of over 200,000 people in Israel - the deserted farms, cities, and settlements in the north and the south. The uncertainty of what is going to happen, combined with the uncertainty of what is happening. The horror of the captives - where are they? are they alive? Who is feeding the young children, the nursing babies, the sick and the elderly? Who is holding them? and comforting them? Are women and men separated? Do they have any idea of where they are? Can they sleep? Do they know a nation is praying for them? weeping for them? Do they know that we have not abandoned them? Not even for one second? 

Do they know how horrified we are by the words and deeds of those in our government?  Who can understand a people that have been abandoned by those who are supposed to be looking after us?

BUT, the indomitable spirit of the people of this country - civilians, soldiers, teenagers, elderly - everyone coming together, to feed, to clothe, to comfort, to house the displaced, to cry together, to help together, this is what sustains us, but it is so very very hard.

A Heavy Heart

 As I began to write this blog, Friday October 27, at 2.15, I was shaken by a loud explosion. No sirens, so this means it is not immediately close to us.  I turned on the TV - missiles in the Tel Aviv area, and a building was hit! An apartment building has been struck - 2 top stories are burning, residents are being rushed to hospital.

I have called this entry "A Heavy Heart" because for the last week or so my heart is heavy as I see and read of demonstrations around the world against Israel, against Jews, against the colonizing Israelis and persecution of Palestinians.  Just so anyone who reads this can understand - I have ALWAYS been against the occupation.  I am still opposed to the occupation.  There are many people in Israel who oppose the occupation and still, against all hope, want a two state solution.

 The 'woke,' self righteous, good people of the world, do NOT understand the very complex history of this area.  They should try to become a little more informed, and read about the colonial British, the partition, the wars between the Arab peoples.  It is not my place to write about this.  I just want to let everyone know that this is PETRIFYING and tragic for everyone.  We have nowhere to go.  Nowhere is safe.

This morning I went for a teeth cleaning in the small town of Even Yehuda.  The taxi driver who picked me up asked how I am. He said he is "excellent, as good as can be under the circumstances. I do not watch TV, I don't listen to each expert who knows better than the other what to do, I work and go home to my family, and pray."

Every small town and moshav now has a guard and gate at the entrance.  As we went through early, there were only a couple of cars going through. Everyone working in the dental ofice was polite and solicitious. They wished me a quiet shabat when I left. I went for a cup of coffee and all the waiters and counter people were helpful and polite and nice.  It is a different country since the war! I am not quite used to it. Before I reached the cafe a group of young boys, about 10, approached me and asked whether I would  buy a lemonade or cookie for the residents and soldiers in the south.  I said I would give them some money. I handed them the money and they said, "please, at least have some lemonade." They told me where the money was going. They were serious, polite and caring.

The taxi driver who picked me up to take me home apologised for being tardy - "there is a roadblock into town, only one and a (more explosions right now - Rishon LeZion) very long line of cars waiting to get through.  So stupid", he said, "a long line at the one entrance - we will all be killed together."  

On the way back we saw a miles long line of cars waiting to get through.  He pointed out the open fields on either side of the highway, "what is to stop them coming through in a truck and killing us all."

We are NOT living in comfort and peace and ignorance. We know what is happening in Gaza, we know what is happening in the north. What we don't know is what is happening next - a ground invasion? not? when? This waiting and not knowing is completely nervewracking.  Waiting for a war, waiting for missiles, above all, wanting, and waiting, and praying for the hostages to be returned.

To all you 'woke' people, try and understand that this story has many sides, an Apeirogon - it is a unending tragedy for everyone. 

Read "Apeirogen" by Colum McCann

The End of the World

Is this the way the world ends?  For us here it certainly is the end of the world as we knew it. It will never be the same - ever.

 Friday night - erev shabat.  A crescent moon shines in the darkening sky.  Night is falling.

Just two weeks ago, it was October 6, the 50th anniversary of the Yom Kipur War.  I went to the nearby mall - it was packed with people.  All the restaurants and cafes were full. The local humus restaurant is the friday meeting place for the young soldiers on leave.  They were eating, laughing, patting each others backs - young boys, identifiable as soldiers by their haircuts.  Young girls, so beautiful. They were in civilian clothing, the uniform of the young, denims, sandals, T-shirts.  I looked at them and hoped they will never know of war. 

Just two weeks ago, on Friday night, I decided to make dinner.  I haven't cooked during the summer because it has been way too hot and humid, but the weather was lovely two weeks ago.  I made dinner and invited my neighbours.  We ate together, had wine, and spoke of future plans. The one neighbour was going to Cornwall in a couple of days.  I was going to Egypt in December, and then a good friend planned to visit. Two friends, actually - one at the end of October, and one in December. The immediate future seemed as rosy as the wine we drank.

And then came Saturday.  And now we see the photos and names of the people who were slaughtered.  Facebook, social media,  newspapers, TV - photos of babies, young, beautiful faces, families, grandparents, never ever to smile again.  And there seems to be no end, each day more bodies are found.

Today I went to the mall which has been closed for about 10 days, other than the supermarket and the pharmacy.  Once again, it was full - except there were no young soldiers on leave.  Just families, children, vendors. By now I know lots of them -we greet each other, and I see that faces have changed.  Everyone has a look of fear, uncertainty, anxiety. We say shalom, we shrug - it seems that we all feel something terrible is coming.  Two weeks have been full of shock and fear, but worse is to come. A child came running in holding a balloon. It popped, for a second there was silence, then faces registered anger.  "Who the hell gives someone a balloon now?"

"Shabat shalom" we say to each other, shrug, and add, 'hopefully.'

The world as we knew it two weeks ago, will not be the same again - ever.  Maybe this is the beginning of the end.

Please Know

 I want everyone who reads this blog to know that Israel did NOT bomb the hospital in Gaza.  Immediately that horror happened it was broadcast around the world that Israel bombed the hospital. It was Al Jazeera who learned the truth - a rocket sent by Islamic Jihad that backfired!!!!!!!  And last night I listened to Christiane Amanpour on CNN.  She interviewed the Egyptian Foreign Minister on CNN.k. He said Egypt cannot take in refugees from Gaza - they have 9 million refugees or civilians from other countries.  They are supposedly taking care of Gaza.  No, they can't let in refugees, and while they spoke headlines by King Abdullah of Jordan stated that Jordan will not take in refugees from Gaza.  I am not going into this in detail, but it should be obvious that the Palestinians are a forgotten people by their brothers.  There are 60,000 Israeli refugees - from the north and south.  They are housed in kibbutzim, moshavim, hotels, settlements.  Volunteers are taking them food and clothing.  Therapists are working with them.

War is HORRIBLE, and terrible acts are committed by both sides, but please, don't be blinded by propaganda.  There are still enough reliable sources of information.

And pray for everyone.

Waiting For God

 I think that was the title of a BBC series set in an old aged home - a residential senior establishment, or whatever the euphemisms are, sorry can't think clearly these days.

Last night I experienced a breakdown of sorts - I was supposed to take a zoom yoga class, but I just couldn't do anything, other than lie on the couch and cry from time to time.  The atrocities, the uncertainty, the fear of what next, is hard to bear.  I managed to read my book  The Missing Sister, and I immersed myself in the troubled history and wars of Ireland, then went to  sleep earlier than I normally do.  I seemed to have a deep and dreamless sleep. As I normally do in the morning, after meditation, I opened the shutters and made a cup of coffee.  I turned the TV on, and listened to it in the background.  I had drunk just half a cup of coffee when I heard a siren.  I wasn't sure whether it was on TV or not.  I turned off the TV, and the siren continued.  I put the coffee down, grabbed a packet of kleenex, took my housekey and went to the shelter in a building close by.  Each floor has a shelter. Of course I went to the shelter on the ground floor. On the way I saw my Arab cleaning lady run out of the house she was cleaning, and beckoned to her to come. She went to another building, closer to where she was standing.

If it hadn't been so damn scary, it might have been like a hilarious scene from Waiting For God.  A couple sat there quietly, then a delightful old South African woman came in on her scooter, pushed by her Phillipino helper.  A young Sri Lankan woman looking after a demented lady came in holding her hand.  The woman was in her dressing gown and she looked around at everyone and smiled, "Why are we here," she asked. "Did someone die?"  The South African woman had left her bottom set of teeth in her shower. Her helper was crying, and we put our arms around her and told her to sit between us.  "Come," said the half toothless woman, "sit between us old ladies, it will be alright."  We heard explosions, (those who could hear), but determined they were not in our immediate vicinity.  After 20 minutes that seemed more like 3 days, we left. I returned to my half cup of coffee and finished drinking it with shaking hands.

THIS IS NOT FUN.