When I was expecting my first three children, I don’t remember worrying to the point of panic. I was, of course, concerned that each ultrasound or test should be okay, but once they were, I expected all to be well. I was young and ecstatic to build my family and within the span of 5 years, delivered three beautiful babies.
After Shmuli was born, we moved to Israel, my parents-in-law passed away and life because a bit more serious. When I became pregnant with David, I realized I was doing something crazy. After three healthy beautiful children, I had the nerve to ask God for another.
I worried all the time and begged God for one more miracle. How many miracles does any person have a right to ask. And months later, God answered my prayer with another miracle baby. And four years later, I was beyond terrified to ask yet again.
When my oldest son went into the army, I didn’t really know what to expect, what to worry about. It was all very general and I easily believed everything he told me. By the time the third went in, my fourth child, I was beyond myself with worry. Nothing comforted me other than to have him home.
Today, this morning, I got a message that David was out. Out of hell, out of Gaza. As hard as it was to have my sons serve Israel, I am infinitely proud that they have, that they do. In Israel, soldiers serve in the Reserves into their 40s. Somehow, a few years ago, I felt I should stop this blog because I was no longer a soldier’s mother 24/7. Now I realize that I am, that I will be, for years to come.
But at the same time, writing has become harder. I feel more like I am tempting fate and I don’t know if I have the courage to continue.
And my life is so much more full than it was a few years ago. My grandchildren are older; my youngest two are in university. Life’s challenges continue and only seem to get bigger.
Too much to decide on an early Sunday morning when the sun is shining but I guess time will tell. For now, all that matters is that David is out. But so many are in. The war continues.
