This post was supposed to be different it was supposed to be happy and light, instead… Well, we see how it goes…
We had a very nice and quiet Shabbos. For the first time in a while we did not have any guests and it was just the 10 of us. Hm, for a girl, who professed at 19 that she “will never have kids” I got quite a large family.
I have even baked two cakes. Note to self:
“Henya, stop being delusional! You got a double oven Israeli style – these means two tiny ovens, not your old huge N.Y. oven. Start baking early. Like Wednesday. Than your cake will not burn because you put it on the oven bottom.”
But the kids loved it and ate it, burned crust an all. Actually, as I kid I loved burned crusted cakes and formed a conspiracy with my Dad, who also professed to love his cakes burned. Each time my Mother backed we tried our best to distract her so the cake would be just a little burned. And we usually succeeded.
So the Shabbos was nice and quiet.
On Sunday, yesterday DS #1 turned 17. We are so proud of ourselves that he and we have made it this far!
My wonderful funny kid! The first one! The with whom I was in labor for almost a week and managed to get root canal done between the contractions. The one who cried non-stop when we came home from the hospital, and yes, I cried right along with him. He is the one, who never stood still for a moment, who run, climbed and jumped all over the place. Who never went to sleep in his crib, instead DH had to kind of tackle him on the fly and put him to sleep next to himself on the living-room carpet. He is the kid, who for many years was the shortest in class but never hesitated to pound someone bigger than him. Now he is taller than me and still growing. Kid who had two left hands is now creative and professional bookbinder, and it was something he “picked up”. Kid, who would do anything to avoid chores is now my biggest helper and I got to watch myself not to overload him.
My Son. My pride. My joy.
I love him and I am terrified for him. He is so sure of himself, so confident. His wings have just unfurled. G-d, please keep him safe! May his wings grow strong!
Instead of being happy and elated I spend yesterday shaking, literally shaking with fear. My Son had to go back to his yeshivah near Jerusalem. We started debating which was the safest way to go back from Saturday night. What was safer: to go through Tel Aviv meant to risk a rocket attack. To go through Jerusalem meant to risk being pelted with stones by our unfriendly neighbors (we are not talking about gravel here – we are talking about huge hunks of concrete blocks). At some point I was too nerve racked to participate in this discussion and asked DH to please make a choice together with our Son and not tell me until he will get on the bus.
He left and there were hours of stomach churning wait. I do not know how Mothers did it before in pre-cell phone era. Whoever made the telephone so easily portable – this mother is grateful to you from the bottom of my heart. I was trying and could not stay away from news.
Four rockets intercepted in their flight to Tel Aviv…
More rioting in East Jerusalem…
13 Golany solders killed in action…
I knit and I prayed.
Then finally, the call came that he made it safe to his yeshivah.
If you think that I am an alarmist – you are right. I am. I admit to it. But then, last week my son’s yeshivah went on a hiking trip in the North. DS called me when they got on the bus on the way back around 8 p.m., then I heard nothing for hours. Finally, at 11 I called him. No answer. I told myself that he probably was too tiered to call. The call came almost at midnight. “Sorry Mom, the trip back took longer than I though and then I stayed back to help the driver to clean up the glass”. You know, I am that slow. It did not penetrate, I just felt proud that he did not want the driver to do the clean up by himself. Fifteen minutes later I found a news story saying that the Arabs from the village next to the town where he learns were rioting and stoning cars and buses that were going into this town. The word “glass” in this context took on a totally different meaning.
Happy Birthday my Son. I am wishing you a good and happy year. Year full of learning, discovery and self discovery. And no more sirens!