As I wrote about a month ago, my daughter, Exhibit One, “is returning to the Holy Land with the Aish HaTorah Jerusalem Fellowships. As part of the Jerusalem Fellowships program, she will be spending most of her time in Jerusalem and making day trips and overnight tours from there.”
She stayed an extra week and, G-d willing, returns to Canada Sunday August 28.
By all accounts, she had the time of her life learning and touring around the country. My daughter loves Israel and loves the people of Israel.
Like most Jews, she is deeply concerned about the recent escalation in missile and other terror attacks from Gaza. Almost all of her friends in Israel are in or have just come out of the military. If the dreck hits the fan, her friends will be called up to fight.
My best friend is in Jerusalem with his wife. They are always on my mind. I know they are OK. I know they are safe and having a wonderful time. I communicate with them almost daily via Facebook and emails. I know, G-d willing, they will return to Toronto in time for Rosh HaShana. And yet, I still worry.
There’s this ‘vote’ supposedly taking place next month at the United Nations regarding establishing a new country for the Arabs of the region. It is not too much of a stretch to suppose that it would be in Hamas’s long-term political interests to continue to increase missile and other terror attacks in order to provoke another Gaza invasion so that they can claim that they are the ones who need protection from Israel, that they are the victims.
I cannot imagine what it will be like for my daughter to be back in Canada, doing a year of post-graduate work, going through the same daily routine, all the while thinking and worrying about her friends and loved ones seven time zones away. Are they safe? Will there be a war? Another invasion? Will they be OK? Will they survive?
I grew up with stories of war in a far-off land, of how my family lived not only during a war but in a war-zone. Six months ago, I would never have dreamed that my daughter would be starting to go through some of the fears my mother, grandmother and aunts went through in Italy.
A father naturally wants to make things go well for his children… to make it all better… to make all the bad things go away.
Some things can’t be fixed. Some things never go away.
I’m looking forward to speaking with my daughter, to listening to her and hearing what she has to say. I know her heart will be in Israel, with her friends, with the land she loves. I know she wants to return. I know she wants me to come with her.
G-d alone knows what the future will bring. Maybe before long, you will be reading my off-the-cuff musings coming at you from my computer in my new little place in Jerusalem.
One never knows… do one?