Stuff

In the past approximately 20 days, I have spent an obscene amount of money. It's-- stuff we will use, and the things we are buying we can't get in Israel or are two to four times the price.

For example, I got a 12-cup muffin tin for $5, which is approximately 20 shekels. No way can I get that quality in Israel for 20 shekels. I got storage containers-- a set of Rubbermaid containers for, I think, $20. They are non-disposable, high quality storage containers. Good luck finding them in Israel. At almost any price.

Underwear that lasts more than 6 months. Socks that are comfortable and don't cost a fortune. Ziploc bags. A king-size sheet set for $30 (120 shekels); twin sets for $13 (52 shekels). $20 (80 shekel) jeans that look normal, fit comfortably, feel good, and are good quality, wooden puzzles for $8 (24 shekels).
I can continue with the food-- Devil Dogs, Ring Dings, English muffins, 3-lb. brick of American cheese, curly-edge non-cook lasagna noodles, granulated onion. I can just go on and on.

It's frustrating. There are lost of people who don't come to America every year and stock up on clothes, cheese, and ziploc bags. And I know that what we bought is going to last us for a LONG time, but it's still hard to look at the credit card bills (then think of that in shekels...) and justify it. I know that the amount of money I spent here is probably 1/3-1/4 of what I would have spent, had I bought these things in Israel (if I could even find them...) But it's frustrating to feel that disparity, just to look at numbers.

I spoke to occupational therapy students at the school I graduated from about occupational therapy in Israel, and they had a lot of questions. Inevitably the question of salary came up, and when I answered it, I'm pretty sure I (a) dissuaded a lot of them from wanting to live in Israel and work as an OT; (b) killed their day. Like in a previous post, the salary is very disappointing. It was very frustrating and shocking to them, as it was to me.


Do I really need ziploc bags? No, I can live without them. Do they make my life a heck of a lot easier? Definitely yes. 


It's frustrating that things-- almost everything-- heck, even some Israeli products!-- are less expensive in America. And I want to live in Israel and not rely on American products, but as far as I can remember, I have bought ONE item of clothing (excepting mitpachot) and TWO pairs of shoes (mine were dying and these were on sale). Why? Because I know that I can get the clothes I know I like at Old Navy (decent quality, very good prices) for about $5-$10 (20-40 shekels, depending on the sale). So why should I spend 50 shekels a shirt for something that is going to last me half the time (because the quality is lower)? I'll wait a couple of months, and someone will be coming in and will bring it to me.


Oh, and I just saw packing tape. That an packing boxes are two other things that are very expensive for inferior quality, or you can't really get them in Israel.




My mother-in-law (weird to use that term; I prefer Eli's mom) worked really hard to raise her kids Israeli and not have America be such a part of their lives (other than they are from there and have relatives who live there) and I feel like I've come in with this neon sign above my head that says, "American!" and have brought in more America in the year-and-a-half since I met them than they had in the approximately 17 years prior. I I kind of feel bad, because she tried really hard to not raise her kids American-- and no way would you look at them and go "Americans" but I don't, because I am American and my children will be American-- not the same way I am, nor the same way Eli is, but in their own way.

I want my kids to know the "oldies" and folk singers I was raised on. I want them to know the American anthem and Pledge of Allegiance, and to be able to say their Social Security numbers the same way they will know their Israeli identification number. I don't know how, but I want my children to feel their American identity as strongly as they will their Israeli; I have no idea how to do that, nor how it will play out. All this, of course, to be filed under "future."

Weddings, Israeli style

I called my house in NY today and talked to my mom about flights to NY over Chanukah. She asked me if Eli was going to bring a suit to NY, and I told her that we had discussed it and...we're Israeli. Israelis don't do suits. But Eli actually is thinking about getting one in NY, because they're better quality there.

I should probably back up now and explain who Eli is. Eli is my-- ok, big word here-- chatan [fiancee]. It's hitting me slowly...I'm getting married.

We're so right. His sister is the one who set us up, and as she put it, "You get him and he gets you." Everyone else saw this but us. Isn't that fantastic?

I'm whelmed.

More on this later when I can process and as I go through this next stage in my aliyah and klitah: Getting Married and Building a Bayit Ne'eman B'Yisrael B'Yisrael [A True House of Israel in Israel].

Here goes.

Overwhelmed by emotion and don't know what to do

I am so overwhelmed by conflicting emotions and I can't...separate them.

Gilad is home. After five and a half years, he is home. He has been welcomed by everyone, and no one is angry at Gilad for the trade that happened. Amazing, isn't it? Everyone is happy that he's home, alive.

Terrorists with actual blood on their hands were let free to redeem one person, one soldier, one Israeli. No one is mad at Gilad, no one is angry at him. At the government, at the army, at the president and prime minister for letting out mass murderers who will kill again, and are already inciting and planning to kill more Jews and Israelis-- yes. But I don't think there is anyone who is not happy that Gilad is back home.

I sent an sms to an Arab former coworker (he switched areas of practice), who lives in Silwan, asking him what it was like in his neighborhood. He said that it was crazy, and he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to get home (he was at work). Nothing like that here-- people in Mitzpe Hila I'm sure had lots of street closures, but no riots.

I'm terrified of what is going to happen now that these 1027 terrorists have been let out and while not all of them have been allowed back to where they came from, they will still do their evil work from wherever they are.

That's the conflict: Joy over Gilad being back; Anger at the government for allowing so many murderers to go free; Fear of what will happen now that these terrorists are free and able to get back to attacking freely.

I pray that Gilad will be able to sleep tonight, in his own bed, peacefully, back in his home. May he be able to move past the hell that was the past 1,941 days and nights and continue his life in health, happiness, and peace from here on.

Feeling...unknown quantity

There is another post in the queue, but that one is going to take a little longer than this one.

Gilah Shalit is coming home. After 5 years, he is finally going to be home. And in exchange, Israel is releasing 1000 terrorists.

I am so happy he's coming home (the cynic in me is waiting to rejoice until he is actually back), and the other part of me is going, "So this is the new tactic...kidnap an Israeli, wait 5 years, then get 1000 prisoners released to go kill again."

I don't know what I feel. I do, actually: Confused.

From my actual journal

I have this blog, but I also have an actual handwritten journal that spans a few notebooks. I started journaling in college, often using the back of a small notebook that I carried for last-minute reminders, shopping lists, packing lists, and recipes. Those backs of notebooks have since been upgraded to their own notebooks, and my journal now spans multiple notebooks.

This was written earlier this evening (there are occasional translations that I put in, which are translations and are not in my actual journal. They are marked. Other than that, it's exactly how it is written in my journal):

August 21, 2011- 9:39 pm- 96 st.- waiting for the 2 home
Home. Always that funny (not really) word followed-- accompanied by-- a feeling of duality and confusion. Oh joy.
But that wasn't the point of this.
I'm on my way back from a date. Date was nice and it would be nice to see this guy again. But he's not planning on making aliyah in the near future. [Note to self: (a) Just because someone served in the Israeli army doesn't mean they want to live there; (b) Doesn't mean they speak Hebrew; (c) Ask that question BEFORE you ask them out. End note.]
We kind of were leaving it as, it would be nice to go out again- maybe before I go back. But I didn't think feel that was right, because I know that I want to live in Israel. I could live in the US-- or somewhere outside of Israel-- for a bit, but I want to raise my family there. Despite the educational system which I hate. No, hate is too strong a word-- it should be reserved for things that deserve it-- like Hamas, Hezbollah, and Ahmadinejad. Anyway. Digression.
I was walking down the hill in VV this past Shabbos and I thought, "Well-- what if I get married and moved to America for a year or two?" And felt like I was going to cry. Actually cry. Doesn't really make sense, but I feel like I want my shana rishona [edit that was not in my journal: shana rishona = first year, referring to the first year of marriage] to be...not holy, that's not the right word- But I want it to be in Israel.
Anyway, so I didn't feel it was right, blah-blah, but I felt that an explanation was warranted. So I told him about the person who I could have married, had I stayed here. And I felt myself getting very quiet-- not my voice, because I still need that conviction to remind myself and help myself recognize that it was right-- but I think-- for the first time I felt a measure of peace with that decision. It still isn't total at-peace with the decision, but it's the most שלם [edit that was not in my journal: That word transliterates to "shah-laym," which in Hebrew litereally means "wholeness," but when someone is "shalem" with something it means they've kind of made peace with it and they're ok with it] I've felt with it in two years. Just amazing.

I think it's good I took the train home tonight. Writing is good for me.


10:20 pm:
Even if I could live here-- I've changed-- too much, I think, for him. He still loves the pre-aliyah Lauren, and that's not who I am now. זה מה שיש [edit that was not in my journal: Those words transliterate to, "zeh mah sheh-yesh," which in Hebrew means, "that's what there is," kind of like, "it is what it is."

"What is hardest to accept about the passage of time is that the people who once mattered the most to us are wrapped up in parentheses." — John Irving

*this is a very personal post...heads up y'all*

A couple of years ago I built a nightstand, painted it a medium sky blue, and I wrote quotes, including the above one, all over it with some picture fitting the quote.

I just finished a book this morning, and in it the protagonist has a line about something being a couple of years and two lifetimes ago.

This is my second time coming back to NY after making aliyah, and coming back here now feels like my life here was another lifetime.

Strange as this sounds, it was never so clear to me as when I was with someone who I once loved-- and still do-- and realized that since I made aliyah I have changed so much and that even if I stayed here, I could never be with this person. That realization hurt so much. How can it be that someone I loved so much and who loves me back...that we've grown, or I've grown, so much away from who I was that it couldn't work? I loved him for three years (?-- give or take--) and then made aliyah and changed. And still loved-- love-- him. It hurts. A lot.

After high school I didn't go to seminary-- I went to college and grad school. My friend Shana, who did and then made aliyah, came back to NY and we were talking. We got onto how we'd changed and she said something that really made me think. She told me that I'd really just grown into more of the person I was in high school. I sort of got it-- college (really just post-high school and living out of my parents' house) gave me a chance to explore what I liked and things that interested me and figure out what I wanted, beyond the walls of school and my home. If I think about the person I was then, I can't say that I've really just grown into more of the person I was then.

I've changed so much over the past 18 months, and I don't know if I went back in time, if I would really believe that the person I am today evolved from the person I was then. I...I don't feel Israeli, but at the same time I know that Israel is so much a part of me and that I could never not live there. I'm so conflicted about how I want my life to be: I want to raise my children in Israel, but at the same time I'm horrified by the education there. I want my children to be Israeli and at the same time be American-- and proud of both of their nationalities and absorb and understand both cultures. I want my children to serve their countries, and I'm ok with it being either. I hope to G-d that there won't be a need for my children to defend Israel, but if there is, I want them to do so willingly and proudly. I want to be able to be able to express my feelings to my husband in Hebrew and in English and not have to translate from either language. I want my children to grow up singing the folk songs of America and the classic songs of Israel.
Is that too much to want?

Contrasts

I was just looking at my pictures from Pesach two years ago, the last Pesach that I was in NY for and upstate-- the way I grew up having Pesach.

Pesach really seems to be THE holiday that exemplifies the whole family coming together. Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur not as much, and even Chanukah, because of it's proximity to other winter holidays. But Pesach-- everyone who has some connection to Judaism and tradition remembers the seder. For me, Pesach was my family together, upstate-- see here; I don't need to post it again.

It's something that I want my kids to have memories of, the way I have-- my immediate family, plus my grandparents, plus aunts, uncles, and cousins (well, only one set in my case). It was also something special-- because my mom was an only child and my grandparents all got along, my mom's parents always were at the seder even though it was upstate and in my Bubby and Zaidy's house. I always had seder with both sets of grandparents. I wonder what seder was like this year in my house (my parent's house...). The first seder they had a friend from the neighborhood over and the second night a different family friend came over.

I wonder what my seder will be like once I have my own family. I should probably write something else about that, because that seems to be a repeating theme: The future for me in Israel, with my own family. Not that I have someone to start it with, but it's still something that I clearly think about a lot.

Reflections on making aliyah and looking into the future

A year and a half ago I posted this post about the future and what it holds. Part of it was about my childrens' future if I moved to Israel. What would their future be like, being drafted into the army here. I also mentioned another blog, A Soldier's Mother, written by a woman who made aliyah with her family about 17ish (?) years ago.

Today I saw this in her post:
"It bothers me that to live in this land, my children must know the uniform and the gun. My daughters may not serve in the army, but their husband or brother or nephew will at some point in the future. My sons will serve, as will their sons. To serve, if life remains as it has been for more than 60 years, means war."

So well phrased, so much of what I feel even though I'm not yet married and don't have children. My children will grow up seeing soldiers in uniform and men and women carrying guns as part of their daily life. And my children will, as she put it, "know the uniform and the gun" when their draft notices come and they, too, join the ranks of the IDF. I will encourage my daughters to serve in the army as well as I will my sons. I don't want there to be a need for my children to serve, and I know that my parents wouldn't want me to be in danger, just like I wouldn't want my children to be in danger...but they would be proud of me if I was in the army and did serve my country. When I was considering joining the American army, my parents weren't happy because they didn't want me to be in danger...but they would have been proud all the same. But I made the choice to move from somewhere that my children would not be drafted, and would not be asked to serve in the army to a place where...once they turn 18, when they're not even out of their teens and still...well, children...they're going to be asked to put on a uniform and learn how to use a gun. And not for pretend, for real. To be ready to fight in a war, if need be, and even to guard and defend the country in some capacity, even not in a declared war or operation. Was it fair what I did? I don't remember where I heard this, but someone said she made aliyah so her children don't have to (if you said it and read this blog, please let me know so I can credit you). I did...but was it-- will it-- be fair to them?

Something I've thought about but never said out loud, and I wonder if this place, this blog, being that I don't know who reads it, makes it almost easier to say it here-- I don't want to marry someone who didn't serve in the army for idealist reasons, didn't want to serve. If someone moved here when he was too old to serve-- fine. If he was exempted for medical reasons-- fine. But not to serve because you don't want to or idealist reasons...that bothers me. It's your country, too. I went on a date with someone who I've known for a few years and his brothers are in the army or about to go in, and I always assumed that he also served. And then he told me that he didn't. I'm not discussing his reasons here because they're not mine to discuss, but the army gave him an exemption and he did not serve. And that bothered me...you want to live here, be here, raise a family here...and yet you're not willing to serve? I don't want my husband to go off every year for a few weeks, but...that's going to be life here, and I don't think I'd want it any other way really, because it's part of living here and you have to take the good with the not-so-fun. When he has to go for miluim, I will help him pack, get up that morning, kiss him goodbye, and wait and count down until he gets back. And that will be the life I've chosen. Unless he doesn't do miluim for some reason.

Poems

Since I got here, made aliyah, I have written a few poems. I have to find the other ones, but this was one that I wrote after I was having a sort of writing slump and hadn't really written for a while. It's in Hebrew, followed by an English translation. Unfortunately, I don't think the English translation really feels the same as the Hebrew. But that's just me. I translate literally.

This was actually something I started when I was at the tekes for Yom Hazikaron (Israel's Memorial Day). I'm not sure I like it as is, but...here it is.

Background for those who are unfamiliar with Yom Hazikaron: It is the Israeli Memorial Day. There is a nation-wide siren at 8 pm that night, then another siren at 11 am. Cars stop driving and people get out and stand, students stand up-- the country pretty much stops for these few minutes. There are ceremonies, the broadcasts are Memorial-day appropriate. The names of those killed for the sake of Israel are read. It's unlike Memorial Day in the States; here there are no sales, but the cemeteries are full of people coming to visit graves of loved ones and friends. It's a day to remember not only the soldiers, but those who were killed in terrorist attacks as well. It's something that must be experienced to fully appreciate and understand it.

תפילה של עולה חדשה ביום הזיכרון

צפירה.

עוצרים, יוצאים, עומדים.

מתפללים.

חוזרים לרכב, מצטרפים לטקס.

אני עומדת פה, בקהל, אחת ממאות.

שומעת שירים, ואנשים מדברים על אלו שנרצחו...

אני רק עומדת.

ושומעת.

אין לי מישהו שאני מכירה שנהרג, שנרצח.

תודה לאלוקים.

תפילה קטנה יוצאת משפתי—

אנא ה', עשה שילדותי לא יהרגו.

אין לי ילדים עכשיו, אבל תן לי...ותן לי שיחיו.

בנים, בנות—כולם היו.

כולם שייכו לאמא ולאבא ולמשפחה.

ה' ישמור את נפשותם בגן עדן,

ויתן לי שלא אדע מזה.

Translation:

Prayer of a New Immigrant on Memorial Day

A siren.

Stopping, getting out, standing.

Praying.

Go back into the car, joining a ceremony.

I stand here, in the crowd, one of hundreds.

I hear poems, and people talking about those who were murdered...

I just stand.

And listen.

I don't have anyone that I know who was killed or murdered.

Thank G-d.

A small prayer leaves my lips--

Please, G-d, don't let my children be killed.

I don't have children now, but give me...and give me that they will live.

Sons, daughters-- they all were.

They all belonged to a mother and a father and a family.

G-d should guard their souls in the Garden of Eden,

And grant me that I should not know from this.

Yay progress!

It's been about a month since I last updated. Tons has happened since then...
-Deposited my first check, which was very exciting
-Miriam found an apartment and that she, Eden, and I are renting
-Ordered checks
-Got my teudat ma'avar
-Was in the MDA EMS Championship up North
-Finishing Ulpan
-Finding a job
-Summer in NY!

So, let's start:
Check: I deposited my first check in my bank account! It doesn't seem like that big a deal, but I did it in Hebrew. I walked into one of the bank branches and said to someone, "Hi. I know this sounds sort of silly, but can you help me deposit this check? I've never deposited a check before and don't know what to do." So she did. And she was very nice and helpful, and said, "There's a first time for everything." And so it was. I successfully deposited my first check. Go me.

Miriam found an apartment and that she, Eden, and I are renting: Miriam found an apartment for us. It's mostly unfurnished-- it has a fridge and stove, closets, and a couple of pieces of furniture, but mostly not. No beds or anything. So we are working on getting furniture. It's 3 bedrooms and a HUGE living room. The kitchen is also big, and there's another side room with the stove and a second sink and a place for the washing machine. There's also a mirpeset-- two of the rooms open to the mirpeset and the third does not. Two toilets and one bathtub/shower. A little more than I wanted to pay, but it's really not unreasonable for what we are renting. The Arnona and va'ad bayit are also more expensive, but that seems to be normal for that area. The landlords are also supposedly good landlords and good people. Our lease starts July 1.

Ordered checks: I ordered (and picked up) my checks. I have to go back to the bank, though, because it showed that it took 9 shekels out of my account when it wasn't supposed to because as an olah chadasha I get 3 checkbooks free. There's someone in the branch who speaks English and she's been wonderful; I'll go talk to her.

Got my teudat ma'avar: Went to Misrad Hapnim to fill out the form, gave in the pictures, and paid. Miriam went to pick it up from the post office (because it was sent registered mail) and they wouldn't let her because she didn't have my ID with her. Murgh. I SIGNED the form so she could pick it up...and they still wouldn't let her. So I went to the post office and got there at 5:57-- it closes at 6. Someone was there at 6:03 and they wouldn't let him in. I'm very glad I got there on time. So I now have a teudat ma'avar, which is like a temporary passport. You can't get an Israeli passport until you've been a citizen for a year, but you need to travel on an Israeli document when leaving Israel so you get a teudat ma'avar until you can get your real passport. So I have one now.

Was in the MDA EMS Championship up North: SO MUCH FUN! It was 3 days of challenges and working with new people and just...fun. The theme was "From Gilboa to Carmel," which were the two regions that won the last Championship (it's every 2 years); Carmel won again this year from MDA (BLS and ALS), and Spain (BLS) and Canada (ALS) won this year from the international teams. I was on the Irish team with a driver from Netanya.

Finishing Ulpan: Tomorrow is my last day of classes. We have to be out by the 15, but I'm teaching a course starting Monday, so I'm moving out Monday morning. I have almost everything moved out; Basi came on Thursday night and picked up some suitcases and stuff, I brought one home on Friday, and I have some other random things to pack up that I'm just going to have to bring to the course, and we still have quite a bit from the kitchen. And the stand dryer. Miriam is going to be taking stuff. I don't know how, but we will have to make it work-- we have to have things out and in some order. Alan came on Friday and took a bunch of stuff-- a suitcase of kitchen stuff, and the oven-- to his machsan.

Finding a job: Work in progress. There was somewhere that wanted me to come work, but it was mornings, and before I finished Ulpan and I wanted to finish Ulpan. I'm now looking for jobs, preferably in schools or gan or ma'on. Afternoons work too; I definitely wouldn't mind working in the afternoon. The system is very different here in that there are more part-time positions and very few full-time positions available. I don't really know how benefits work here-- full-time/part-time. Are they different? How? What am I entitled to as an employee, etc. Tips anybody?


Summer in NY!: I'm going back July 4-August 31. It's going to be interesting, because I'm still a citizen-- I'm not giving up my American citizenship, I don't want to-- but in a way I'll be a tourist. I don't live in NY anymore, and...I think that's going to be a shock when I first get there. Of course I remember how things look and all that, but it's...my parents' house feels like home. It feels funny to say that NY, though, is home. I'm not sure that it is anymore, at least it's not completely home.

Into the single digits

The countdown, not the temperature in NY, although it kind of almost feels like it when the wind blows. For those you who have not heard, there was a nor'easter last night (Motza"sh) until Sunday morning. It dumped anywhere from 6-26 inches (that's 15.2-66 cm for you non-Americans) on Westchester-NYC-Long Island. I have had my snow for the season, I am ready to come to Israel. It's supposed to snow-then-turn-to-rain on Christmas, which I will be in NY for. I will also be eating the gingerbread castle/palace/harem on Christmas Eve instead of on New Year's Eve, as has been the tradition for the past couple of years. Unfortunately, I won't be here for that this year. Fortunately?

It's weird...there are all of these things that I'm hearing about that I will be missing...because I'll be in Israel. It's starting to get more real. It's like-- no, I won't be there...I'd love to, but I'll be in Israel and I can't come in.

I know in my head and my heart it's the right thing to do, and I want to be in Israel...but I...I'm starting to get the "going to miss a lot of things."



I also saw the person who I broke up with today at my aliyah party. I was so excited to see him because he was one of my really good friends, but as I was walking to the subway on my way to go home, I started thinking about him and what I was giving up. I gave up someone I could have married...not definite, but a definite possibility. I was talking to Rabbi S. and I said something about that I was going out with someone for a little bit, but we broke up because I was making aliyah and he wasn't. Ever. Not like, "Maybe," but "Never." And Rabbi S said, "Hashem sees that." And that struck me. Not because I'm so, "Hashem this, Hashem that," and because "G-d" is every other word out of my mouth-- but the idea that this is something that is bigger than me. There's a mishna in Masechet Ketubot (I'm pretty sure it's Ketubot; not looking it up at the moment) that says that if either spouse wants to move to Israel and the other refuses-- that's [valid] grounds for divorce. This, moving to Israel, making aliyah, is so much bigger than me and it's something...I don't know. I mean, this was a relationship that I wanted for 3 years. 3 years! And to have it and then have it taken away/end because I'm moving to Israel? Not fair. But also this mishna says that one spouse wanting to move to Israel and the other refusing is valid grounds for a divorce is also like-- ok. I'm not crazy. I mean, I am...I gave up something I wanted for 3 years that could have been a marriage. But there's something bigger than that, which apparently is not new. And G-d knows that.

So here is to the countdown continuing; me getting more accustomed to the idea of not being around for everything; getting acclimated to my new life as an olah; and to finding my bashert (more on this later...yes, there's more)!

59 days

When you put it like that, it doesn't seem so long.

My mom called the people who deal with the headstones about my grandfather's headstone for the unveiling. She thought it would take about a month...and it'll take 3-4 months. This sucks. I'll be missing my grandfather's unveiling. When I said this to my mother she answered me, "I wasn't at my grandmother's funeral."
Me: Why?
Mom: I was going to Israel and Rabbi Bulka said I should go.
Me: Oh. But still...
Mom: That was a funeral. There's no halacha for an unveiling.


I know, but still...out of my sisters, I think I was the closest to my mom's parents. I think I'm the closest to my father's parents also. I'm not meaning to sound all "Wow, I'm so whatever" but I was the one who was always going over there, who helped them, who just...went and just goes. I know they like it and appreciate it, even just calling them if I can't get over there. I'm really not happy about missing this.

There's a lot of things I'm going to be missing. I don't like this game.

Coming up on Y"K

Coming up on Yom Kippur.
Last year I thought the chagim were going to be the last ones here before I moved. Turns out I'm here still.

I know why I'm moving. Because my eyes tear up every time I see a video of Israel, I feel like I should be there.

I'm sort of dreading leaving. I'm excited, as we all know, but I also know that it's going to be hard at the airport, and I'm (most likely) going to be crying and so will my parents and Lis-- Lis, kind of ish. I don't know if my Bubby and Zaidy will be able to come. Andrea and Yoni and Squishy will be in Israel-- and will be getting ready for the wedding when I get in and therefore will not be coming to the airport to greet me. Rita and Dov and I'm not sure who else are coming, maybe also Oren and Tanya. Don't know who else. It's going to be more emotional on the NY side probably. I'll be choked up when I get there, but I don't think the full impact of making aliyah is going to hit me until I have my teudat zehut and am doing all sort of day-to-day things that I use my teudat zehut for.

When I Grow Up

or at least get married and have kids...not that that's in the immediate future. I'd like a guy first. Anyway.



There's a blog that I found called A Soldier's Mother written by a woman who made aliyah about 16 years ago. She knew then that her sons, at least, would serve in the army.

I'm not there yet, and please G-d, there will be peace before then and my children won't have to serve because there won't be a need for an IDF. But realistically, there probably won't be peace and there will be a need.

Is it fair for me to do that to them? Is it fair for me to move to Israel, knowing full well that I intend to raise my family there, and that my children will be going to serve in the IDF and protect and defend Israel and Jews all over with a chance that, G-d forbid, they will get injured or killed? Is it fair to impose that on them? It's my choice to move...now I'm in the US, a country that has a volunteer army (generalize it to mean any branch of the armed forces). If I stay here, my children will not be drafted; if they want to join the army , it will be their choice; it will not be forced on them, and no one will think them any worse of them or look down on them if they don't. But in Israel it's not really something that they will have a choice about. Yes, they will somehow be able to get an exemption if they really want to...but I'm not going to encourage it. Is that fair?


And on another somewhat related note, is it fair of me to leave my parents and family to move to Israel? Not like my mom doesn't worry here, but there she's more worried, more nervous. Is it fair to make my mom worry more? This is the part that really sucks...leaving family and worrying about them. Forget them worrying about me, I'm worried about them. What's Lis going to do? Yeah, she says she'll just have to learn to manage on her own, but it's going to be harder. It's little things I do for her, like making her food when she's running late or her laundry when I do mine even though it's more or letting her vent or running small errands...just little things.
And my mom. I'm really worried about her. Not that she's not worried about me, but as much as she's worried about me, I worry about her too. I help her a lot with things like schlepping and running up and down to get things or bring things and helping her with the computer, switching laundrys...just things that don't seem so big, but help her. My dad I'm not as worried about, but still. I help him with things like fixing things around the house. He'll manage-- they all will...but it doesn't make me feel any better.
I'm not the savior of the house-- by no means do I think I am. But I am home a lot, and am capable of doing things so I do.

Man, this sucks.