Monday, September 12, 2011

A time to mourn, and a time to dance

Yom sheni, 13 Elul 5771.

A time to weep, and a time to laugh.  A time to mourn, and a time to dance.


I had finally accepted the inevitable.  We had made the decision to refinance our home mortgage.  I don't want to overstate it: but for me, that decision had behind it the ever-so-distant clang of the cell door closing.  It meant we weren't going anywhere, that we were staying in our lives in America.  But I was accepting it.  The clang was there, but it was far away.  I could do this.

After all, we lived in one of the finest Jewish communities in America.  We had wonderful neighbors, a loving congregation, friendships we had built over sixteen years.  We had jobs; we knew the language.  We knew what to expect day to day.  We were planning our life and aging and death in the land of our birth.

The lady at the mortgage office was very sweet.  She had explained everything to me, to us, very clearly.  I hung up the phone to discuss the details with the Dearly Beloved.

We had only shared a few tentative words on the subject when the phone rang again.  I assumed it was the mortgage company lady with some new detail.

It was the voice of my dear Rebbetzin Bracha, who was also my neighbor.  "A plane has just crashed into the World Trade Center," she said, softly and terrifyingly.

I know she said a few other words, though the shock of that few moments keeps me from remembering what they were.  I think I responded with my usual genius "Okay." (This is my favored insightful response in times of crisis.  I had used exactly this remark when my husband had gotten off the phone with the US Army captain who had informed him that American troops were entering Iraq.  The Gulf War had begun...  and that announcement unleashed all the coiled fear of anticipated poison gas attacks against Israel.)


I turned on the radio at the same time the announcer was incredulously sharing news that the second plane had just hit the World Trade Center.  It felt like War of the Worlds -- except that this was no hoax.  The next two weeks were out of a novel or a movie or a dream.  The tectonic plates of our American lives shifted.

They never again returned to the same place.

We never called the mortgage company lady back.  (When things resembled sanity again, we joked that the reason was that hugely bad things seem to happen when we talk with mortgage companies...)  We hadn't expressed it at the time, but one of the excuses for staying in America had been the taken-for-granted safety of our sons.  In Israel, it was a given that they would put on uniforms, that they might have to fight for their and our survival.  But in America...  Well, there were no guarantees anymore, were there?

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At about 4:30 PM yesterday, the Dearly Beloved and I left our apartment in Neve Daniel to catch a bus to Jerusalem.  It occurred to me as we walked that it was 9:30 AM in Baltimore on September 11, 2011.  I started to think of what had been happening that morning, ten years ago... and how much our lives had changed as a result.

We were on our way to a wedding.  We were privileged to attend the wedding of the daughter of Laura Ben-David, a woman who had been very instrumental in our aliyah to Israel nearly four years earlier.

Sports Guy was on his way to Jerusalem as well.  His destination was Kraft Stadium, where he and his fellow Israel National Flag Football team members would gather before going to watch on someone's over-sized TV screen his beloved Baltimore Ravens against their arch-rival, the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Yeshiva Bochur and Stunt Man were in training with the IDF, becoming the guys who help to keep Israel safe.

Soldier Boy, now retired from the IDF, was in Baltimore with his wife and children, planning to introduce his wife to a concert of our favorite family band, Gaelic Storm.

Later, as we moved among our Neve Daniel neighbors in the wedding hall, we felt that old familiar feeling of being with a huge group of family members.  Only now we were celebrating the building of a brand-new bayit ne'eman in Israel, with our Israeli branch of the family, instead of with our dear Baltimore mishpacha.

In other words, the terrorists lost.  We as Jews, as Americans, and as Israelis, have much life still in us, and much to celebrate.
Wedding photos by Lisa Sturman Melamed


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"A time to weep, and a time to laugh.  A time to mourn, and a time to dance." 

Mazal tov, Shyra and Gidon!  Mazal tov to all good and decent life-loving people.  May there be no more weeping, no more mourning, and much dancing.

Glossary:
Aliyah: Jewish immigration to Israel
Bayit Ne'eman:  lit. faithful home, this refers to the building of a new marriage, a new microcosm of the greater Jewish family and inherent mission
Mishpacha: family 

7 comments:

Ye'he Sh'mey Raba Mevorach said...

As always, my dear friend. Thank you.

Laura Ben-David said...

Thank you for this. After we announced the date of Shyra & Gidon's wedding we faced everything from raised eyebrows, to people flat out insisting we must change the date. But I agree with you: the terrorists have lost and we will celebrate life whenever and wherever the spirit moves us. And it is this spirit that carries us onward and upward to more joyous occasions and good things.

Hillel Levin said...

Sis,

We had just moved from Chicago to Milwaukee. I was actually at U-Haul returning the rental truck when on the tv behind the counter, there was the film of the plane smashing into tower #2.

Moving to Milwaukee was our transition from the 'cosmopolitan' Chicago to the Shtetle of Milwaukee on our way to Eretz Yisroel.

We were in Milwaukee 5 years and today 13th of Elul marks Chava and CYL's 5th aliyahversary. Mazal Tov.

Your loving Brother,

Hillel
Shiloh

Sara Lapping said...

Great post, as usual. Your ability to make even the subject of 9/11 smile-worthy is, for me,a defining characteristic of your blog.

Gaelic Storm?!?! I have been an avid fan since high school!

rutimizrachi said...

YSRM: As always, my dear friend, thank YOU.

Laura: It saddens me that well-meaning people so often equate political correctness with kindness. As it happens, many people who should benefit from it are bewildered by it. (For instance, Indian friends were sad that "Brave" and "Chief" were no longer euphemisms for fearless warriors in the world of sports.)

Here's another excellent take on a similar subject: http://miriyummy.wordpress.com/2011/09/12/miriyummy-guest-post-im-an-apology-for-a-jew/

Hillel: Mazal tov! Great story.

Sara: Ah, then I assume I can lure you over with a promise to show you Soldier Boy's video clip of a "GS howdy" to the Eastmans??? :-)

The 2 Spies said...

What a beautiful story... with the happiest of endings.... not only a wedding... but you are here in the Land... ! No matter what we have(had ) in the States... this is G-d's best for us....

David Eastman said...

Beautiful post Eema!! Powerful message.