During our very long 9 week stay in America someone asked me , “Are you happy to be back home in America?” I responded by saying, “I am not home- Israel is my home.” The conversation continued, “But how could that be? You lived in America all your life- and for only one year in Israel. How is it possible that it could be your home so quickly?”
Seven years ago, we were fortunate to arrive in Israel for our nephew’s Bar Mitzvah, and my brother’s wedding. We had both of our families in Israel altogether at the same time. A dream come true. We arrived on Yom Yerushalayim and went straight from Ben Gurion Airport to Yerushalayim. We didn’t even unpack. Rather, we took our 4 year old and 2 year old twins and headed to King George Street near the Great Synagogue. Israeli flags were waving. Kids were shrieking with joy. The music was blaring through the loudspeakers. Dancing. Jumping. Laughing. Pure happiness. Everyone was there to celebrate the reunification of Jerusalem. The only capital of Israel. Undivided. Ours as it should be. Forever. Always.…Continue Reading
That was the question posed to me this morning by a friend while I was on my way out the door. At that moment, I had an agenda. Fix my eyeglasses, buy more fruits and vegetables. You know, the typical errands. But my mind started to wander….
Well……. I can take the bus to any destination in Israel.
Many times we are so focused on the present, the here-and-now, and the future, the where-are-we-going, that we don’t spend the time reflecting on the past, the where-we-came-from. Unless of course, we’re sitting in history class. And if you’re like me, you didn’t necessarily enjoy history class.
The truth is, we owe it to the past generations to remember them. My husband’s grandmother, Bubba, as we affectionately call her, a Holocaust survivor, always says: “Without me, none of this would be!” And she’s right. We can’t take our life for granted when so many struggles were made before us, so that our life would be easier.