October 19, 2023
It feels to me like a rubber band is being stretched here. Everyone simply waiting. The fog of war hanging over everything. A friend told me that the scary part is over, now it just will be sad. I'm not sure I fully agree that the scary part is over, but he's right that the daily list of names day after day has yet to come.
I only seem to notice things when they’re taken away. Like the way I have always kind of assumed that those who are in my life now will continue to live along with me. Yet, this seems to be an assumption I can no longer make. I feel the weight that there is a chance that people I know will die. I suppose it’s always a delusion to think otherwise, but it is much more apparent now.
I think I also always wondered how people lived through periods of great danger – like London in WWII. And it seems to me that the answer lies in the way that life simply always is exactly as it is. Some people are alive today and others are dead. I am alive today. Tomorrow that might all change. But there is a truth to that. An engagement with the reality of the present moment.
I walked down the street today and saw a man wearing a black shirt with the sleeves ripped off. For a moment my mind said – grunge? But then I realized, no, he’s in mourning. In Jewish custom, when a close family member is killed, one rips one’s clothes. There was a funeral being held at my friend’s neighbor’s house today. The sign said: “our wife, mom, sister, daughter, friend…”
And this morning, I sat with a friend of mine who was out for a day from the army and his 6 year old daughter. I asked her if she was going to school. No, she said. Because of the war. The matter of factness in how she referred to the war was striking. There’s just no way to shield even children from this reality.
I am also aware that – on the other side of the border – also lies immense pain and suffering. It seems that these are the things that we know share with those we call our enemies. If only that shared pain was enough to bring about peace.