Talking to my brother in the US yesterday, I realize how little people in the US know about this part of the world.  Of course, they have their own part of the world to worry about – but not to know about the depth of despair and heights of joy we experience here seems a bit much.  While our government is working hard now to destroy what is left of democracy, the freed hostages are describing the absolute torture – almost unknown in today’s civilization – that they encountered.  

When we were children in Rochester, the existence of Israel was something to be celebrated constantly.  It was not only Independence Day that was a celebration, it was every day.  We sent packages of clothes, letters of encouragement in the Scouts, planted trees, and, above all, bought bonds.  My mother would get plaques and presents for the millions of dollars of bonds she sold, and every visitor from Israel was pressed for news of developments.  Of course we put pennies into the JNF boxes, and praised every achievement loudly – whether it was a plane or a earring.  My socialist father and religious mother were one on this issue.  Israel had to exist, to thrive, after what they had been through.

So when I was asked whether there were still rockets on Tel Aviv, and what I did to fill up my time, the amazement came to me gradually.  I described by 14 year old grandson’s first aid course in detail – the tests on triage, the hands-on exam for which I was patient , the sewing and cooking classes of his sister which are becoming necessary, and I realized that we are living in different worlds.  That we’re trying to stay alive, and few people around the world understand this.  My other grand children too live with stark and intense purposes.  Their talk is of what they do in the army, or what they will do. 

So when my sister-in-law asked, what do I do to fill up my time, I thought how different my answer would be from the expected.  I know her time is very full, and health and exercise very important, and of course I try when I can to do that too.  But I talk politics, I demonstrate when I can, I write politics, I try to keep a house going – and I celebrate – whenever I can.

Our lives are of mourning and celebrating and survival.  And they are very rich.  I’m not complaining.