Day 4: War
Tuesday, October 10th, 2023
We still have a hard time saying the word “war” — not “campaign,” not “situation,” not “events” or any other description that was of use in the past. The official name Swords of Iron/ Haravot Barzel, doesn’t stick.
What is clear is that this is very different from anything we until today, waves of terror attacks included. Paradoxically, the closest thing to our collective feeling of lack of control is COVID. People combing the news sites for information, the terrible fear of the unknown, the closed schools, the empty streets, the shopping centers with few lights and no escalators running. And in another parallel with the early days of COVID, the thousands and thousands of volunteer initiatives at the local and national level. Food deliveries. Free babysitter services. Blood donations where people wait their turn for 5 or 10 hours or more. So much. Even after 25 years in this country, we are astounded see the solidarity and empathy between all sectors of society, even after the divisions caused by the so-called judicial reform.
Family update
B (20) is on the front line, at a base near Gaza. He’s fine. He texts or responds with an emoji from time to time, but we know that he is super busy and that he can’t always access to his phone. He told us that he would try to talk to us once a day.
Y (18) left today with her pre-army program to volunteer for 3 days at the Dead Sea hotels that are hosting refugee families from the kibbutzim destroyed by Hamas. They are helping out with the young kids. Yesterday afternoon she collected 15 giant bags full of games, books, crafts and toys to distribute among the victims. All it took was a single WhatsApp message for people to show up at our house with bags and bags of toys. At some point, we had to turn people away.
L (15) helped me with shopping for stuff B now needs (starting with the basics - from underwear to snacks) and volunteered to pack food for those in need. Here and there he pops over to see a friend. The other night he had to literally run home when alarms started in neighboring cities so that he wouldn’t be caught by one of them while walking on the street.
S (10) is mostly calm, logging in to a couple of zoom classes per day and playing by herself or with a friend.
A and I I trying to work from home. It’s hard to concentrate but we are always busy volunteering in whatever way we can. Yesterday (Monday) A hopped on a car with a friend and drove to Netivot to drop off sleeping bags and mattresses for reserve soldiers. I am on the synagogue support committee, so unfortunately we have been very busy organizing meals for families in mourning.
Life today
We try to limit the dose of news — maybe 5 minutes every hour, and if so, try to stick to the headlines. No social media. It’s not just the graphic videos we’re trying to avoid, it’s the heartbreaking stories that only make us feel even more powerless.
We are still in shock. We’re sad and hurt. Too many names being read on the radio. Too many of them so young.
But we also know that we need to move on. That our role, as small as it really is even though it feels unsurmountable at times, is to support each other — neighbors, friends, acquaintances and strangers.
A small example — the sudden mobilization of hundreds of thousands of reserve soldiers requires drastic logistical help. And behind them, every community is busy raising funds, shopping, making donations, preparing packages, filling in for essential workers called to reserve duty, doing deliveries.
Stores were mostly closed for the first couple of days, but yesterday one of the camping equipment stores reopened. An hour after we got a message via mutual friend, were able to find two pairs of specialized boots for reservists who needed them. They got them the next morning. The video and photo we received from them (and forwarded to the donors who offered to pay) made our day.
Here’s to better times.