Sometimes it is necessary to breathe in deeply, and then breathe out – not only to get rid of the shocks of the day, but to get ready to get through the of tomorrow.
Today was a day to breathe in. We went through the hostage tents and then the museum.
This is a terrible admission. Don’t read if you want to feel good things about me.
Here it is: I’m sick of Jewish Writing. 50 years ago a friend of mine laughed at the entries he was getting for an English publication in Israel. “It’s all about the shadow of grandmother’s candles on the wailing wall!” I remember saying to him that I had come to Israel to be normal, to live my life without having to think about being Jewish all the time.
But in the last few years the issue of Judaism invades every aspect of life. I just bought superkosher butter because it is cheaper, and I know that all the superkosher foods are cheaper. But I can’t bring myself to go to superkosher neighborhoods to cut my expenses. I’d rather spend my afternoon in the Russian supermarkets because they remind me more of my youth, even though the pig’s knuckles are a bit problematic.
And I’m really tired of tv programs about Hassidic families that are very cute.
Some of the hostages who came back remind me of what people believed and how they felt before the war – the sense of unity, the encouragement of others, the spirit of socialism. I want to go back to that wonderful country that we were.
Where have I been? Trying to figure out how to get Ezi the medical attention he deserves. At last our private doctor came with antibiotics for him and I suddenly feel healthy.
The fact that there is beginning to show signs of the continuation of the talks with Gaza also makes a difference.
Like every Saturday lately, we begin with the news on TV. Will they indeed be freed? Will they be humiliated as usual? How will they look? Healthy? Emaciated?
But today there was a break in the electricity. The whatsapp messages in the neighborhood went wild. We’re all glued to the TV and the screen is dark.
It was 10 minutes of madness. The lights flickered and came back. The boys appeared on the screen, gave the required speeches of Hamas, and were passed on to the red cross. We breathed, ate breakfast, and then went to the beach to celebrate. Okay, we didn’t have enough strength to walk more than a few paces, but being around all the happy people was curative.
Then back to the TV to see how Hamas reacts to Trump’s ultimatum and how we react to Hamas….
How could you think of valentines with all the back and forth torture of prisoner release? today the names of the three hostages were released and tomorrow they will go through those silly demeaning ceremonies before revealing to us how terrible their situation has been. And then we will be in shock for another few days bit we’ll be praying that the rest of the hostages will be freed before they’re tortured to death. It’s a weekly ritual with us.
So, since Ezi had his head cut open yesterday and really shouldn’t do much of anything right now, we are almost doomed to watch tv tonight. Oh yes, and I fell out of my slippers last week and still can’t sit down.
But I have sworn to avoid the tension of waiting for the hostages, and will help Ezi recover some other, more positive, way.
I almost got caught up in it today – virtue signalling. like I’m doing more for the hostages that you are. I’m more against the government than you are. I’m more virtuous than you are.
Almost.
Okay – no jewellery. that makes sense. no dressing up. (who would feel like getting all gussied up when there are starving people next door.
But I stopped learning Arabic after Oct 7 – just couldn’t hear the language, couldn’t even think about a celebratory dinner (and I don’t mean the Gazans who have been looking well-fed for a while now).
I don’t even mean demonstrating. Unless there is real danger involved and not just joining up with old friends.
So I’m still sick, Ezi just had a cancerous growth removed from his head, and I don’t have anything left – so when some left wing politician called me, I couldn’t support him.
As much as I would like to lie in bed and eat chocolate covered cherries, as much as I would like to be a narcissist, these are not the times for it. I don’t just mean politics – Of course I am incapable of demonstrating now, and I am determined not to comment on US politics, but I am also committed to endeavoring to ease the situation of all those in a panic about the situation. This is the worst time we’ve been going through since October 7, and people are losing their strength. If you know any Israelis, get in touch – if just to say you care.
Of course the terrible political situation has helped to reduce my resistance to disease.
I’ve got so much wrong with me I haven’t been able to demonstrate or even watch the news since Saturday’s big trade of 180 healthy terrorists waiting to go back to work and 3 emaciated men who have suffered terrible personal tragedies and will need many months before they can function as participants in society again.
And now we’re on the brink of war again.
It looks to me like Trump is planning to fight in Gaza until the last Israeli.
But the break from media I took for 2 days was enough for me to recover enough to get back into the fray.