It's been a long time since I've left Israel, and definitely not since the war began.
Back in October I even explored the options of our family taking an American rescue flight out of Israel. Or perhaps Nickoma leaving with the girls while I stayed behind to work.
But we didn't leave. We stayed.
It wasn't easy.
The first few weeks in particular were wrought with the most indescribable feelings of fear and terror. I consistently dreamt of terrorists climbing through our windows. I locked the doors and bolted the windows when I showered my girls, so as to give myself some peace of mine while they are at their most innocent and helpless.
Yet we continued to endure. One foot in front of the other. Day after day. Moment after moment.
For 283 days.
283 miserable days that have continued to show the worst of humanity. Violence, hatred, ignorance, brainwashing, antisemitism and bigotry.
Now, I am finally leaving Israel and about to spend the next 5 weeks in New York with my husband, kids, and inlaws... vacationing. Is one allowed to "vacation" while their people are at war? Am I allowed to enjoy life a little while 120 hostages are still being held by their rapist captors?
It feels wrong, but I also feel like I need it so badly. I need to be out, breathing different air, seeing different sights, talking to different people. While I simultaneously crave the change of travel, I also fear being outside of Israel.
With so much hatred and violence in the world, Israel makes me feel safe. Despite war, I feel safe walking down the street as both a woman and a Jew in Israel. (I'm not convinced that is true across America these days.)
As I fly across the Atlantic towards New York with 2644 miles to go I can't help but pray, or wish, or hope (or whatever you feel comfortable calling it).
I pray that the horrible things I see in the news are just the fringe exaggerations of an out of control minority (and not the majority it so often seems like).
I pray that if, Gd forbid, we come close to some of the antisemitism and violence America has been experiencing, that I have the strength to walk away.
I pray that my girls don't have to know about the hatred boiling around them. That they can live in blissful childhood wonder as long as they can. (No child should have to worry about being hated based on their personal religious beliefs.)
In the meantime, I pray to have a fun vacation and the best cuddle hugs when I reunite with my family in a few hours.
For the first time in years, I deciding to start wearing a Star of David necklace again. My little subtle reminder of who I am, where I live, and what I stand for. My connection to my land and my people. My tiny protective shield.
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