By Daphna Horowitz
Raanana, Israel
24 October, 2023
| Day 12 – Holding joy and pain at the same time Every morning I wake up and for a split second, before I’m completely awake, while my mind is still a bit foggy from sleep, I simply forget that life here in Israel has literally been turned upside-down. For that split second, I think nothing has really changed and life is just the same as it’s always been, normal, pre-7 October. And then it’s gone, that split second of normalcy vanishes and I remember the reality I’m waking up to. This happens every morning. And I notice it every morning just because of that jarring reality check that brings me right back. As soon as my mind clears, I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. Oh yes… We’re at war. 1,300+ people dead, thousands injured, 200+ kidnapped ,and 500k+ forced to evacuate their homes. And that fleeting, split-second, false memory, remains just a wish, a dream, a yearning. I wish I could have that life back… But this is the reality we’re in… Saturday morning, a week after the massacre, my son in the army sent a message to say he’s going to be offline for a few days. “Don’t worry,” he wrote, “It’s just a few days and I’ll be back in contact.” I’m usually very calm. I’m not the kind of mom that stays up worrying when my kids are out with their friends or traveling overseas. I generally have an inner trust that things will be okay. But in this crazy time, imagining a few days without being in contact with Idan, raised an anxiety that I’d never known before. My breath would catch and my heart beat faster every time I thought about him. I’d consciously stop for a moment and send out a prayer for his safety. That first night, I decided to go for a run with my friends. It helped to get out and get moving, even though it was a bit of an adrenaline-raising experience. While we were running, we heard the booms, looked up and spotted three orange rockets shooting out above us. We ran for cover. Thankfully, they were intercepted by the iron dome, and we managed to complete our run and return home safely. Four days later, we received a message from Idan. “We’re making our way back to base and you can come visit. Leave in about two hours and then I’ll be able to see you.” This was better than we could have expected. Not only was he returning to base and relative safety, we’d have a chance to see him! So what would any mom do? Bake, of course! I was going to bake some of his favourite things – scones and date biscuits. And we’d take something yummy for anyone else on the base who is missing some good home cooking – barbecued kebab rolls. Everyone loves a good barbecue! (Or braai, as we South Africans would say.) We were spurred to action at the prospect of seeing Idan, and in a short time we had a production line going, yummy food and snacks to take with us. And off we went, a two-hour drive down to the south of Israel. We spent a couple of hours together (way more than I expected!) and found a busload of soldiers who were super-hungry and grateful for the barbecue rolls we brought them. The rollercoaster of emotions is something that we’re experiencing every day. From the real lows – a bottomless pit of heartache and loss – to getting into action to do some good somewhere, to the highs of experiencing joy at being able to hold your son and tell him you love him, face-to-face. That same night, our friends (and rabbi from South Africa) were celebrating the wedding of their son. Another example of the crazy rollercoaster of emotions. The son that was getting married, Yonatan, was injured, shot in the leg, and thankfully recovering well, while his younger brother, Daniel, is missing in action. We’re learning to hold joy and pain at the same time. Our resilience, love, courage, and strength keeps shining through.  Day 17 – Life is not like in the movies “How are you?” For the last 17 days, the most normal of questions, the question that usually just rolls off our tongue without thinking, has become the hardest question to answer. When someone asks me, How are you? I pause and think. I don’t know how to answer the question. I usually say, “I’m okay and I’m not okay.” So, How am I? Well… I’m alive, my family is alive. We have a roof over our heads and food to eat. We’re really grateful for that. The rockets seemed to have slowed in our area. We’re grateful for that too. The basics are covered for us whereas for many people in Israel they aren’t. But… I’m not okay. We’re not okay. Today is Day 17, and I woke up with a lot of questions and a lot of anger. How can it be that we have 220 hostages (by the latest count) in Gaza for 17 days?! Two and a half weeks! How are they being treated? How are they surviving this? Children who’ve watched their parents murdered in front of them and are now alone in captivity. Elderly who need their meds and everyone else of course. How can it be that there are still hundreds of bodies, yet to be identified? There are families still waiting for news and clarity about their loved ones – alive and kidnapped or dead. How can it be that people are celebrating Jewish deaths and atrocities once again? People who survived the Holocaust after losing their families are now again facing similar losses. How can it be that videos of horrendous acts are published proudly by the terrorists? They want the world to see what they’ve done. There’s no shame, no remorse, no regrets – only celebrations about their “accomplishments.” How can it be that freedom of speech is celebrated when that freedom means support for these heinous acts? Yes, we have generational trauma. An event like this opens wounds that are still relatively fresh, wounds of our ancestors from not so long ago. And it creates anguish. Every fibre of my being is in anguish. I feel anguish that things seem to be moving so slowly; that there’s no quick resolution to this situation; that it may still escalate. And I get that I know nothing about any of this and how things are done. We’re so used to watching movies where people are kidnapped and pretty quickly the situation gets resolved. In only two hours of a gripping story line, we get taken from anguish to resolution. There’s always a hero that comes in, blasts their way through, and comes out battered and bruised with hostages in hand – mostly unharmed. But life is not like in the movies. I constantly think of the people that have been murdered, raped, abducted, and worse. I think of the hostages just wishing to go back home. The story of a 92-year-old man comes to mind. He lost his family in the Holocaust, came to Israel, rebuilt his life, and now lost his family in this massacre; only his 13-year-old grandson remains alive. In an interview with him he exclaimed with courage and passion, “I lost everything and rebuilt it here in Israel and my grandson will do the same!” A father is interviewed after discovering that his eight-year-old daughter is among the dead, and he cries in relief because he can’t imagine what it would be like to know that she had been abducted and held in Gaza for weeks that could turn into months, years? And I see the world is getting confused and bringing in discussions about land and who was here first and why this all started. There is NO reason for people to be butchered, raped, tortured, abducted over any kind of disagreement or conflict. No conflict resolution method calls for extreme violence to get to peace. And calls for peace are meaningless when we’re in an extreme situation right now. Right now, we have hostages that need rescuing and people celebrating deaths of Jews. What interests me is how do we create peace now, in this situation, at this specific moment in time? Surely, if the hostages were returned to their homes – that would be a start? Surely, if the rockets would stop being fired, it would be a start? Surely, if our neighbours in the North didn’t see the attack in the South as a perfect opportunity to attack us because we’re already spread thin, it could be a start? I started this morning angry and a friend of mine sent me this thought: Anger + Hope = Momentum Whereas Fear + Despair = Stuck We are not stuck. We are taking action. We can and are using anger not as an excuse for violence, but rather to fuel action that brings hope and momentum. This is present in the amazing stories of heroism we’re seeing every day. In the countless communities coming together to help cook food, donate blood, rehouse displaced families, rehouse displaced animals, help farmers manage their produce, help broken souls with support and therapy. You name it, there’s an initiative and a WhatsApp group to donate, help, coordinate, write – whatever your strength, there’s a place you can contribute. And this is how a country galvanises for the survival and safety of its people. I know for sure that we will get through this. We have both the courage and compassion to see this war through and get our people out. I cry for the costs along the way. Israel will defend herself and her citizens. Am Yisrael Chai 🇮🇱  |
