It is the beginning of the season of platinum and gold. Spring is over. These photos are of Mt. Tabor and the fields around the kibbutz. A photo also of the cemetery, which is so lovely and peaceful.
It was good to be there. The memorial day ceremonies were sad and respectful - meaningful is perhaps the right word.
I visited my friend Ziva and said goodbye to her also.
The days between Holocaust Memorial Day and Yom Hazikaron (Israel Memorial Day) are never easy, certainly not for anyone who has suffered losses during these times. And unfortunately, there are way too many of us in Israel who are not personally affected.
However, this year, which marks 50 years since the Yom Kippur War, and 75 years since the birth of the State of Israel - the terrible political situation makes it much more difficult.
I will go to the Kibbutz - from the evening of Yom Hazikaron and will stay there through Yom Haatzmaut.
The ceremonies on the kibbutz are beautiful: dignified, respectful, no displays of nationalism or fanatacism. The setting, in the beautiful Jezreel Valley in the late spring, could not be more idyllic. It will help me stave off the questions of 'what for?' and 'why.' The what for has been relatively easy to answer until now. The why is not a question that can be answered. One simply lives with the reality of what happened, and I for one, am grateful for each moment I have been granted.
Sadly, the size of the cemetery in the Kibbutz is increasing. This will be my first visit to my dear friend, Ziva's grave. This is impossible to imagine, Ziva who was there for me from the moment Ray and I arrive on the kibbutz - who was there for me when we were told of his death, who was there for me on every Remembrance Day, whether or not I was in the country. How we always laughed together, and cried together, and understood each other, throughout life's many vicissitudes. I cannot fathom that she too, is in a grave.
I understand that this is a rather morbid post, but goodness knows, we live in morbid times.
How I can only dream that peace will be upon us all.
Okay, think of a snow globe that is NOTHING like a snow globe. Rather it contains myriad particles of sand and dust, and dirt - and it has been shaken up and nothing inside is visible. I stand and look at it from the outside, and wait for the different particles to settle down so that I can make out what is inside this globe.
This is how the last year (and then some) has been for me - I have been shaken up, and yes, some particles have settled - on a physical level at least. I like my home, the myriad of bureaucratic dealings are beginning to fall into place. However, when I receive an email, or a SMS, or an actual letter, and have to fill in forms the inner turmoil takes over, maybe just a tiny bit less than previously but it is far from gone. On a spiritual level - I feel I belong here. It is so good to be with my family and my close friends. But there are times I feel I am between worlds. My dreams certainly show me this. The most recent theme is that I am with friends somewhere in America, either in a restaurant or at a cinema, or driving somewhere, and suddenly I am lost. I can't find anyone and I don't know where to go or whom I can ask for help. It is a struggle, and I wake and think, "oh, a dream," and then fall right back into it. Of course they are peopled by friends, by work colleagues, by patients, everyone and everything all jumbled up, and I can't find where I should turn to for help.
And then there is the dreadful reality of the Netanyahu government, the violence, the upheavals. It is coming up to Memorial Day, and for me, and for everyone who has lost someone dear to them, the globe of dust is shaken up again and never quite settles, and all feels futile.
But there are moments also of everything feeling OK, especially like today when it rained a bit, and the air is cool again and dust free.
Tomorrow is the end of Passover. Please let it be peaceful, even just for a day.
These pastels are from photos I took over the last couple of years, while still living in the Bay Area. The current state of Israel is too upsetting to write about. Also, it is 100 degrees fahrenheit, so one doesn't feel like doing much!
Today is April Fool's Day. In Hebrew it is Nisan - the month of spring, hope, renewal, passover. The root of the word is Nes (I am not kidding) which means miracle.
For me today the Nes is the quiet of shabat (where I live). The cool air, the mild sun, the beautiful clouds, the fragrance of the trees and flowers that are blossoming. The pink blossoms of the almond trees, the uplifting fragrance of a shrub with light purple flowers whose name I do not know. The jasmine. The cooing of the doves, the chirping of the birds. It truly does feel like a miracle amidst the turbulence and upheaval, the insecurity, and the fear that surrounds us. We know we are on the very edge of a precipice, will we grasp and eat the strawberry, or will we fall to the bottom of the abyss? Even the weather forecast portends the coming of a chamsin, (a heatwave) just in time for the seder.
So I choose to enjoy today, to walk outside, to sit on my balcony and read, and continue with my pastel painting.
Shabat shalom
