Tough Times

 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.