Sitting at the gate in the New York airport waiting for our return flight home after visiting family, I felt a sense of calm wash over me as the boarding area began to fill with Israelis.
Some were eating, others praying, still others were taking up seats with their oversized shopping bags. Many talked excitedly in rapid Hebrew.
Was it the loudness, the interactions, the not-so-well-behaved kids, the woman who asked me to watch her valuable belongings so she could go to the washroom, or simply the familiarity of “home” before I even left the ground that felt so wonderfully comforting? I knew I just wanted to be home already.
Leaving Israel is always difficult for me, but this year it felt even more so. My husband and I had not been out of the country in over a year, and with children in the reserves, I had mixed feelings about leaving Israel at all. It didn’t feel entirely right, and there was a sadness and longing that followed me wherever I went.
The country was just so unstable that I knew something could happen at any time. If it did, I wanted, or needed, to be close to home. Try to explain that to someone who doesn’t live here as they look at you as if you were crazy.
I also anticipated increased antisemitism outside of Israel, and I felt that few people would understand the difficulties we have endured over the past year.
Despite my dread, I saw pictures of our hostages plastered all over Manhattan, with few actually defaced. In the suburbs, many homes had Israeli flags, and others had signs on their front lawns declaring in big bold letters, “We stand with Israel.”
While pleasantly surprised, it was not enough to distract me from the news back home. Out of sight was definitely not out of mind.
Yes, moving to and living in Israel involves an adjustment. Sometimes it feels difficult to cope with living in this land of extremes, but then you just need to take a moment and realize just how blessed we are to be here.
Feeling so unsettled while I was away led me to wonder what it was that I actually missed about Israel.
My list is long, so I will only mention a few things. I leave it to you to come up with your own list.
NATURE TUGS at my heart. I love how, within a short distance, the topography of this country dramatically changes. The trees are replete with olives, pomegranates, dates, citrus, and more. This feels incredible, given that we live in the desert. Often, the trees bear fruit at the same time we read about them in the Torah. Flowers come in various sizes and shapes and offer the most amazing combination of colors imaginable.
How, too, do I explain the joy of living so close to historic Jerusalem, the breathtaking Mediterranean, and the beautiful snowcapped Hermon, all within such a short distance? Bible, history, geography, and culture all come alive. Holidays here are amazing, and the depth of Jewish life is incredible and yours for the taking.
I marvel at the variety of people of so many backgrounds, countries, and personalities coming from all parts of the world, each with their own life story, and each passionate about Israel. We all stood united as one without hesitation when war broke out. We have so many larger-than-life heroes who have given so unselfishly of themselves in so many different ways.
Yes, Israel can be a land of extremes – we don’t just have weather, we have weather! When it rains, the heavens literally open; and when it is hot, it can be scorching. People, too, will say “no” with such authority that you are certain their decision is final. Yet, if you simply ask with just a bit more emotion, you discover that their tough demeanor is simply for show. Everything is negotiable, and the “no” can easily become a “yes.” The same person who fights with you one minute shows his deep caring the next.
Life here has tremendous meaning and purpose. Our lows can be earth-shattering, but our highs are exhilarating and like no other in the world. We have truly experienced miracles. We come together for both good times and bad and see ourselves as one big family – for better or worse.
I love the informality. My husband’s ties are mostly used by the grandchildren for playing dress-up, and I have no need to wear something new to an event just because I have worn it many times before. Happily, no one cares, and people move beyond the outer trappings to what is really important.
People do wonderful acts of kindness. When my grandson’s clothes were inadvertently left at home last Shabbat when visiting us, not only was my daughter able to borrow from a neighbor we hardly knew, but the neighbor insisted that we take new clothes she bought her son as well. When my husband commuted abroad for 10 years, close friends told me that if I ever needed someone in the middle of the night, I could always call them. How comforting is that?
You, too, must have your own “only in Israel” moments that you will remember forever.
People outside of Israel talk about how they “bageled” someone. This is the art of a Jew talking with someone in such a way that he/she attempts to indicate his/her Jewishness to determine if the other is Jewish as well. We all play Jewish geography because it makes us feel good to fit in or belong, to be a member of the tribe.
In Israel, we don’t need to play these games. We know that in spite of everything, we belong here. We are one big family. We feel our best when we are strong, united for a common purpose, and rely on ourselves. We have many more important similarities with one another than differences.
This has been such a challenging year for everyone. We all have had multiple losses on so many levels. I want to believe that in spite of political differences, we have learned and continue to learn how we can best be there to live with and support each other. This is our challenge, and if we are to live here, we have no other choice.
It is hard to believe that next month our family will celebrate our 25th aliyah anniversary. When we were taken around on our pilot trip and were told that our guide’s family had lived here for six years, it felt like forever to us. We could not imagine it.
Now, living here for a quarter of a century, time has flown by and we recognize that in many ways it feels as if we have just arrived.
As I look around the dining room table at our children’s Sabra spouses and our Sabra grandchildren, teary-eyed with disbelief that we have been so incredibly blessed to live here, I know that, above all, I have come home.
There is no place I’d rather be.
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