I
don’t understand. Your generation did everything you could to avoid fighting in
Viet Nam and now, by moving to Israel, your husband and sons will be serving in
the army.
That’s
an approximate version of my father’s reaction to my original Aliyah plan. For
various reasons that plan did not materialize for ten years. By the time we
arrived in the Holy Land, the army was not interested in my middle-aged husband.
As the years passed, though, my boys were
inducted. This latest war has had four of my sons, two whom I gave birth to and
two who married my daughters, in uniform and in various degrees of danger. My
father’s words have come back to haunt me over and over again.
Do
I regret coming here? No, a resounding no. Do I wish there was not a war? Most definitely.
Am I proud of my sons? Without a doubt.
Writing
these words, only one son is currently in uniform, and the media is giving us
all sorts of mixed messages. Are we poised to enter Rafeh or on the verge of a
ceasefire? As my husband stated yesterday, we are full of mixed feelings. We
want our son home with his family. Yet, at the same time, we long for this war to
end with complete victory over evil and everyone, captives, soldiers, injured, evacuees,
home safe in body and spirit. Can that happen without continued fighting? Only
HaShem knows the answer, so I continue to pray for miracles.
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