Passage to India

This story actually begins in April of 2009. Our charismatic grandson, Daniel, was speaking at his bar mitzvah celebration. He spent time thanking his parents and his other grandparents and then he came to us- (we had been working as tour managers to exotic places since 2006) and said that in case we were interested, he would be available to travel at the end of June…

That small, humorous comment set off a firecracker inside of me because thank G-d, my grandchildren are not in need of any additional material objects. All of them are living in homes where everything they need and practically all of what they want are provided. Here was a way that we could gift the grandchildren with something that they will experience and remember. Including one trip I took to China with a granddaughter who had asked me numerous times to pack her in my suitcase, we have taken 22 of our grandchildren on tours ranging from a tour around Northern Israel, to a short Mediterranean cruise, to tours to Barcelona, Amsterdam, Venice, Ecuador, and India. This summer, having had our plans for 2020 and 2021 ruined by Covid, we had decided to do two tours- the two boys to India and the two girls to Ecuador (both being the second time for these locations).

We were to take off for India on Sunday, July 3- coincidently, our 56th wedding anniversary. It had been weeks that we were planning this tour, anticipating it, getting whatever we needed ready: making sure that passports were good for long enough, getting our Covid vaccination certificates, sending photos of our passports to the tour operator, applying for our visas (receiving them and printing them), going over the itinerary, etc. Finally the day of the tour arrived. We  had a picture of all of us taken as we were leaving the house.

We left in a large van and arrived at the airport. We all were very excited. We had been waiting for this day for a very long time. We went through the initial security and finally we got to the check-in desk.  All of my papers were organized. They asked for passports- check! vaccination records- check! visas- check! But no, my visa was not good. It was in fact dated about 3 years ago. I couldn’t believe it. I had applied at the proper web site for an E-visa.  I filled everything out. I paid the money, I got a confirmation, and then it arrived. I thought it odd that it arrived almost by return mail and that the photo was an old photo, but I didn’t think to look at the effective date. It had expired years ago.  The same happened with my husband’s visa. “What can I do?” I asked. They told me, “Go home and apply for another visa.” Apparently someone had hacked the site and finding an old visa of ours, he was able to send it to me and take the money I had spent for the visa. The same thing happened to my husband.  We had no choice. We had to go home. They would not let us on the plane- and even if they had, the authorities in India would have sent us home.

There were only 2 flights a week from Ben Gurion to Delhi and so we had to decide should we try for Wednesday night or the next Sunday. We opted for the following Sunday so as to not need to form a whole new itinerary.

But this got mega-confusing because we had to apply for new visas, but who was to say the same thing wouldn’t happen. In the end, we were advised to use our US passports since we had not received any past visas as US citizens. We also had to change the hotel reservations (our Indian travel agency was successful at getting all of the hotels to change the reservations with no additional payment), we had to change the internal flights (which was an expensive proposition), we had to change the insurance (which our son-in-law was able to do with no additional cost), and worst of all, we had to change our flight tickets round-trip between Israel and Delhi.

One of our sons did that successfully reducing the outrageous amount they tried to charge us. It still was not cheap, but it was better than what it could have been.

And then the wait began. We didn’t receive out new visas until Thursday. But even then I was worried. I imagined something would go wrong.

Finally Sunday arrived.

and happily, everything went well.  Despite the immigration agent in Delhi being unclear: “put your four?fore/fingers on the screen for prints. No, no! Your fore?four/fingers.”  This went on for about 6 or 7 times until we understood what he wanted. It was the forefinger of each hand.

Finally we emerged, saw our good friends, Boby and Nitesh, and received garlands of marigolds in greeting. Later we visited the city monuments in beautiful New Delhi.

 

The next day we were off to Agra to visit the impressive red sandstone Agra fort. From there one can in the distance, see the Taj Mahal.

Needless to say, this was a very special day. Because of the monsoon rains (more about that later) and two years of Covid, a bright and sunny afternoon brought out hundreds of Indian tourists. Having been to the Taj Mahal somewhere between 12 and 15 times, I have never seen such large crowds!

After some time in Delhi including a rickshaw ride in Old Delhi, we made our way to Dharamshala, home to a very large Tibetan community, and, of course, the Dalai Lama. One of the most impressive places to visit there is the Tibetan Children’s Village. This is a residential school for children aged 3 through high school- well organized, well run. They serve about 1500 children. The children are taught Tibetan culture, but also responsibility. On a previous tour we were spellbound watching 4 and 5 year olds spontaneously helping each other with their math exercises. They also sang for us a couple of children’s songs in English. Their dwellings are clean and their time for learning and recreation is well defined. Some of the children come from the local area, but they also have students from as far away as the US. It is not just to help these children, but also to preserve the culture- by learning the Tibetan language and customs. Spending time there is exhilarating. There is just so much love and kindness.

Another beautiful place we went in Dharamshala was the Norbulingka Institute. This is a place where Tibetans are taught the ancient arts like woodcarving, metal work,  and painting.  They also have a great display of dolls depicting Tibetan culture.

We also visited the Golden Temple in Amritsar which was also more packed than I had ever seen it!!  I can write more and post photos about both the institute and the Golden Temple as well as the daily ceremony at the India/Pakistan border if anyone is interested.

When we reached Rishikesh, we were able to have two very interesting experiences. One was meeting an elephant in her jungle- just we, our guide, the boys, and the gentleman entrusted with her care. I cannot begin to tell you how much all of us enjoyed this meeting with Rada. She was so friendly and cooperative and we really felt as if she was communicating with us. We must have been there between 30 and 45 minutes and we enjoyed the entire visit.

We happened to be in Rishikesh at the same time as a religious festival for the Hindus- during which they travel from near and far- walking miles and miles to come to the banks of the Ganges in the city of Haridwar. There they pray and bathe in the holy waters. It is a pilgrimage festival and this year they are expecting 18 million people to visit Haridwar during the festival. In addition to hundreds of people adorned in all sorts of costumes there are huge trucks carrying tens of people and playing ear-splitting music. The roads are often closed to regular traffic and the monsoon rains did not help. We were to leave Rishikesh and drive about 5 hours to catch our plane in Delhi. We left at 6 a.m.  We drove through rain that was heavy, heavier, and impossible to see through. Often there were motorcycles that were barely visible in the heavy rain. Also, in addition to the closed roads, they are in the process of building new roads and so we traveled over hard-packed mud and gravel. In addition, it was so hot outside and so damp, that our driver was forced to use maximum air conditioning. With all of the rain and people, there were many detours and our experienced driver himself had no idea which way to go and at least once drove a length of road in the wrong direction. There was no time to stop, and as time to check in to the flight approached and we still were far from Delhi, I began to believe that we would not get to the airport in time to catch our flight.

Fortunately, our tour provider, Boby, and his amazing assistant, Nitesh, were on top of things. We had been planning to show up at the airport in good time to make our 3:40 pm flight, but it soon became clear to all of us, that wasn’t going to happen. A few minutes later, we were informed that the flight had been delayed until 5:15. We all felt a bit better, but when we finally entered Delhi, our high hopes began to fade. The monsoon had flooded all of the streets and we were in a virtual parking lot.  We must have remained in one place for close to 1/2 hour. Meanwhile, our tour provider had called the airline and explained that we had left at 6:00 am and were still in transit, stuck in a very wet traffic jam.

He then messaged me NOT to wait in line, but to proceed directly to the business class desk. They are waiting for us. India is unlike other countries in the practice of security, They are very careful- so entry to the terminal is only after presenting a ticket and a passport- and there are usually long lines waiting to get in. We arrived shortly after 4 for a 5:15 flight. I was pretty desperate. I didn’t want to miss the flight. I also was a bit stir crazy from the tension of riding in a car going though a monsoon for 10 hours. I barreled up to the front of the line, told my sad story and fortunately the guard at the door let us jump the line. He did, however, insist on seeing all of our paperwork and was very careful to identify both of the boys as well as us. Once inside we asked where the Air India counter was and were misdirected away from the actual counter. At this point I felt as if we were contestants on “The Amazing Race” because I wasn’t sure whether the person who told us where it was the second time was telling the truth or even knew and time was running out. Fortunately he did. We arrived at the desk at 4:14 for a 5:15 flight. Once again, security was tight and this time we had to show our vaccination certificates and they had to match the tickets and the passports and since my husband and I each had 2 passports (we bought the airline tickets with our Israeli passports and applied for visas with our US passports) everyone got confused.

Finished there, they assigned a young man to run with us through passport control and security and then to lead us to the departure gate. When we finally arrived at the departure area, people were sitting quietly and waiting. We were elated. We were on our way home.

And yes, we got home safely – the mothers were there to greet their sons and us.  We have a greater appreciation for the two wonderful boys who were with us and their patience and sweet manners. We have always been grateful for them, but now, especially.

My Sisters

What I have to say may be termed politically incorrect, but if you are a person with an open mind, I hope you will read it before you reject it. Too often people don’t bother to read things they believe they will object to and that is how people get stuck in rigid ways of thinking and unexamined beliefs.

A very long time ago when I was young, I had long curly brown hair and green eyes and no self-confidence. OK, maybe there was some self-confidence because I never really gave up on myself. I was not a popular kid. I didn’t really have any friends. There was the girl I walked to school with, but we never were really friends. There were the girls I went to camp with, but they mostly saw me as another piece of furniture. Maybe everyone felt that way- that they were unseen and dismissed, but I clearly did not know it. I was alone.

But inside of me was the real me- not the shy girl who had no friends, but a person with an active inner life who was constantly scanning the environment and trying to find the pieces I could put together to make it mine.

I don’t know this, but I am guessing I was not unique in that way. All over the world there were girls like me. Some had dark skin. Some had skin much lighter than mine. They had blue eyes and brown eyes, round eyes and slanted eyes, silky hair and frizzy hair that was brown or blond or red or black and they spent their days scanning the environment trying to figure out their place in it.

Some were lucky and had parents who nurtured them and encouraged them. Some had parents who pushed them to achieve- perhaps too hard. Some had parents whose lives were so difficult that they had little physical or psychic energy to deal with their children. Many girls ended up raising themselves.

Some had great ambitions and worked very hard to achieve them. Some took what was available and made the best of it. Some gave up. They simply could not overcome the obstacles that were laid in front of them.

All of them are my sisters. All of them deserve respect and kindness. None of them were born to oppress others and none of them were born to be oppressed.

Denying this is to deny their very humanity and the very attributes that link us together in a world that all of us must navigate.

 

It’s not my fault

How many times as parents have we heard the excuse “it’s not my fault.” “It happened because my brother/sister/friend told me to do it.” “I was looking up when I stepped on my sister’s hand. Her hand should not have been there.” “I was taking the glass out of the cabinet when someone interrupted me,” “I failed the test because the teacher made the questions too hard,” “I missed the bus because it usually comes late and this time it was on time,”

And, in today’s nurturing society we say, “That’s all right dear. We know it’s not your fault. It was bad luck.”

And thus we remove from people responsibility for their actions. We create in people a construct they carry with them for the rest of their lives. “I can do no wrong. Circumstances beyond my control have ordained that I will act in a certain way.” And so married people “fall in love” with a co-worker- not their fault. Love just came over and swooped upon them and there was no choice.

Today we see people literally all over the world blaming their leaders for the spread of the Covid-19 virus, Name the hated leader- it’s his or her fault everyone is getting sick. He/she didn’t listen to the experts. He/she listened to the wrong experts. He/she was only thinking of political gain. These citizens, if literate, read the research that has been done of social distancing and mask usage and see that the great majority of the research suggests that these are effective in reducing spread of the virus. Yet, instead of using that information to make a positive step toward a healthier society, some decide that it doesn’t apply to them/ it’s uncomfortable/ I can make my own decisions- no one’s going to tell me what to do.

Ah, it is so much easier to do what I want and blame others for the negative consequences. It is, in my view, antithetical to building a caring society- of being the kind of people to create a healthy environment for our children and grandchildren. Some of the  same people who love the whales and are saving the elephants, are very concerned with them and less willing to “sacrifice their personal freedom” to save human lives.

Governments, good and bad, led by angels or devils, can only do so much. Adults in the society have a responsibility to act in ways that are healthy and compassionate. If the society fails, the responsibility falls on all of us. It will be our fault.

Stay home! – No, I mean it STAY HOME!!!

All of us vividly remember when we were locked down and only essential workers could leave their homes and cities to work. We were an obedient people then. All of us longed for things to get back to normal. The economy was tanking, so the government let up- too soon, for sure, but that’s not the only reason we are where we are today. People simply are ignoring the three simple requests- wearing masks, maintaining social distance and washing hands. Teenagers are having parties in the woods, adults are sitting in cafes, socializing, and having demonstrations with thousands of people, and our numbers are growing alarmingly.

Meanwhile, no one can travel abroad to many many countries.  The airport is mostly abandoned. The outbound and inbound tourism industry is comatose. Thousands of people employed in that industry (travel agents, tour companies, tour guides, hotel personnel, restaurants, bus companies, etc. etc.) have no income because other people don’t like the rules. Many of us long to embrace our children and grandchildren, and to celebrate smachot with them.  If we all followed the rules, we could lick this in a fairly short time. If we don’t, it could be a very long time that a lot of people will suffer. We are all limited now because of others’ selfishness.

And if you think that Covid 19 is like the flu, think again. Do some research. Look at the articles about long term effects, even in those who are thought to be asymptomatic. Read about what happened to participants in Covid “parties.”

Nobody likes being restricted. Nobody thinks it’s cool to walk around in a mask, but if you are anxious to start living normally, follow the rules. Go to work, shop when you must, but avoid large gatherings. And remember, you and I and everyone you care for is safest when you are at home.

Pandemic Fatigue

Early March: We realize that this virus that started in China has reached other countries and seems to be very contagious. Visitors from affected countries are not welcome to visit us. As the awareness grows, returnees from affected countries are asked to quarantine for 2 weeks- and then, as the virus spreads, the country all but closes down. People are permitted to go out only for essential needs: food, medical care. assisting older relatives, visiting non-custodial children. We stay home. We play video games, call friends, zoom.  Some finally get around to doing things they’ve been meaning to do for months or years. Others realize that it wasn’t the lack of time that was keeping them from those chores.

Most of us are good-natured about it. We joke about home-schooling, about having to cook, about finally recognizing that the person we share our life with is fun to be with- or not so much fun. And it goes on and on.

And then governments begin to realize that it can’t go on forever without devastating consequences. Not everyone can work from home. People have lost their income. Farmers can’t harvest their crops, get their produce to market, children (and their mothers) are climbing the walls. The numbers of sick are diminishing. This has to end.

Early May: The powers that be in many countries realize that the lock-down has to end. They devise criteria and timelines in order not to put too many people at too much risk. The formerly empty stores now can have limited customers as long as they are masked. Slowly take-out only food sources become open air restaurants. Schools are open on a part-time, distancing basis.

But people are people. Children want to play together. Preteens and teenagers hug the friends they haven’t seen for 6 weeks. Little ones chase each  around the playground. Friends meet for lunch or dinner. Masks are forgotten. They are uncomfortable,  The virus time is over.

If only the virus itself knew that. If only the invisible droplets that cause such illness and death just disappeared. But as much as we wish it away, it doesn’t seem to be leaving. and now that we all (here in Israel and throughout the world) have contracted Pandemic Fatigue, we are less careful and are assisting this virus by our nonchalance. We are used to things happening fast. How many times have you started to read an article and stopped because it was too long? (Guilty as charged). How many times have we yelled, “Hurry up!” or turned the A/C down to a low temperature or pounded an elevator button because we just can’t wait?

Unfortunately, we cannot hurry this virus along. We can defeat it only by protecting ourselves and others steadily and consistently. A bit of prayer might help too.

A Fable

Once upon a time there was a 20 something young woman- white, Jewish, and from the north living in a city in the south with her husband, (a rabbi) and her small baby. The downtown area of the city was a wide street with two lanes of traffic in each direction and nose-in parking on each side of the street.

One day she decided to go shopping. She saw a parking space on the opposite side of the street. She made a left turn to the other side of the street and pulled into the space. Immediately a policeman came and issued a ticket. She asked why. There was no line in the street and no sign indicating that one couldn’t cross from one side to the other. He told her that she could fight it in court.

A few weeks later she showed up at the courthouse with her infant (now about 7 months old) and sat waiting patiently for about 2 hours. Finally her name was called, the citation read, and she was allowed to speak. But before she spoke the judge said, “Where are you from?” She answered that she lived in the city. He then asked, “No, I mean originally. Where do you come from?” She told him the name of the city where she had been born and raised. He next asked, “So what are you doing here?” She said her husband had a job there. He asked, “And what is your husband’s job?” She answered that he was the rabbi at House of Peace Synagogue (yes, that was its name). He asked if in the city of her birth one could make such a turn on a major street. She said, “Yes.” He said, “Give me the name of a major street you can make a turn like that on.” She did. He said, “We’re going to call the police in your city and check with them.” She relaxed. She knew that they would confirm that what she said was true.

Another 1.5 hours passed. Finally the judge said, “You owe us payment on your ticket.” She said, “But what did the police tell you?” The judge said, “We decided not to call them because we don’t believe you. You can pay now or I can add additional fees for taking up our time.”

She paid. She took her baby and went home.

The moral of the story: There are nasty, prejudiced people in the world. You don’t have to be black, gay, Muslim, or Jewish to be a target. Haters are haters and what we need to do is not join them in their hostility.

Life in the time of CoRONA #3

Let me say from the outset, this post is purely an exercise in thinking and does not represent my specific belief system (which, by the way, even I am not sure of). But travel down this path with me and see what thinking it evokes in you…

When I was a young teenager, more than one person (maybe in the neighborhood of 25) told me that I thought too much. I would ask questions that really didn’t have answers and that I only asked because they were matters of curiosity for me- and I really didn’t expect to get any satisfactory answers. However, the adults around me somehow felt that they needed to give me some response- so usually it was “you think too much.”

One of the things I used to think about was the whole concept of the Messianic Era. How could it possibly unfold? I mean here we are billions of people on earth. Even with all of our modern communication, how would the world get prepared? How would the messiah (however one conceives of such a being) make him/her/it/self known and even be accepted. How would the whole scenario unfold? I simply could not conceive of any mechanism that would work.

And now what is happening? People who were traveling have returned/are returning home- business people, tourists, and yes, even the young Israelis who go traveling after the Army. Students in overseas programs are returning to their homes. Not only that, but people are working from home. Parents are dealing with their children day after day with little respite aside from electronic media. Restaurants, pubs, movie theaters, bowling alleys, gyms, swimming pools- all are closed.

People leave their homes only to buy food and pharmacy items and for short walks. We have cars, but nowhere to go.

Those who looked forward to traveling and/or going to hotels for Passover, will be at home with the nuclear family.

We have no need to dress up to impress others or put on makeup. Appointments and activities that filled our days are gone. Our calendars are blank.

We are hoping to stop the spread of this virus. But, are we in preparation for something bigger, more important? Is this the world’s “wake-up call?” Could it be that we are on the verge of a fundamental change in the world and how we humans act in it? Now that we know that we all are vulnerable, now that we know that we need to protect each other, now that it’s quiet enough to hear that still, small voice- is something extraordinary in store?

Life in the time of CoRONA #2

Musings:

Human beings have a desire to understand the world. Hence all of those cute little people who as soon as they can talk begin asking “why.” OK, sometimes it’s why can my big brother or sister have some treat/experience that I can’t. But some of us have noticed that “why” is a generalized attempt to make sense of the world.

Well, folks, here we are in the time of Corona. Even were my father alive, I doubt if he would be able to remember the Spanish Flu epidemic of 1918. He was born in December of 1917. So pretty much none of us have vivid memories of that time. It was also an age before mass communication so even through millions of people were affected, there was little awareness of the massive scope of the epidemic.

So I have been mulling the “why.” Here’s what I have some up with so far- and I invite you to add or comment:

  1. Maybe we are being taught that all humankind is in one boat. No matter where we live, what color our skin is, what language we speak, whether we are rich or poor, young or old, no matter what our skills or disabilities, no matter whether we are educated or illiterate, beautiful or ugly- all of us are at risk. We also are learning that all of us can be helpers and that all of us are responsible for the health and well-being of others because we know that we can, just by our presence be exposing a friend, a relative, or a stranger to an illness that may cause them suffering and even death.
  2. Maybe the earth needed a bit of rest. We have been driving our cars, flying around in aircraft- maybe slowing down, taking a rest, is allowing the earth too to renew itself.
  3. Maybe we are being taught humility. Somewhere in the late 60s or the 70s of the last century, there blossomed a self-esteem movement. That was when teachers were told to praise children’s work so that they would feel good about themselves and supposedly achieve more. No more was there a winner and a runner-up only. Now there were all sorts of participation certificates and trophies. Children were encouraged to feel proud of whatever they did whether they really worked at it or not. That education accomplished its goal. More and more of the population believes that they are stellar in their knowledge and performance. People who don’t are embarrassed that they can’t be a Van Gogh when they are painting or a Yo Yo Ma when they are playing an instrument. People speak as if they are experts despite having little knowledge and training in the field that they are declaiming about. Oh yes, many lay people these days are sure about the Corona virus (Covid-19) when they have read the opinions and estimates of experts who themselves are not sure. Or how many people are certain that this is a plot by the government/the media/ who knows? for some nefarious purpose? How about an honest “I don’t know, and I don’t like the uncertainty.” How about a little humility?
  4. Maybe we are learning that who really counts is our family. Forced family time can at first seem daunting, but as we actually spend time with these people when we have the time for them, we may discover that we like them a whole lot more for the clever, funny, sweet people they are. (OK, granted some family members may not fill those descriptions, but hopefully once you’re stuck with them, you will find a way to co-exist that is acceptable to all parties).
  5. Maybe all humankind needed a global slap in the face to get its act together- to stop hurting each other, to stop finding meaning in murder, terror, deception, and violence. Maybe we should be learning that we need to have kindness and compassion and work cooperatively for everyone’s good.
  6. Maybe we are being taught to live in the moment- because at this point it is impossible to plan for the future. We don’t know when the pandemic will be over and we don’t know what the condition of the world will be when it is. Will we ever return to the world we were used to?
  7. Maybe it’s just a virus.

No secrets!

This post will not make you cry. It will not make you laugh. It could, however, save a life.

Ask anyone about me and they will mention any number of things- positive and maybe negative- but they will not mention anything about my state of health. Aside from heightened cholesterol like a large percentage of people my age, I have no other medical conditions.

Or so I thought- until one day in July when my husband and I were walking in the mall and I suddenly got dizzy. I continued walking and didn’t think much of it, but then a week or two later, it happened again and seemed a bit more severe.

I made an appointment with my doctor (previously known as Dr. Nonchalant) and he suggested that I have an echo-under-stress test. Taking him seriously and because I had just a week before I was leaving for Ecuador and the Galapagos Islands, I was able to schedule a test for later that day and had the results in hand by about 4 that afternoon. The doctor called me and said that what they had found was completely unexpected- my valves were fine, but now I needed an echo cardiogram to confirm the diagnosis. I scheduled that for 3 days later.

It confirmed the diagnosis. I have hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. This condition is inherited in an autosomal dominant pattern, which means one copy of the altered gene in each cell is sufficient to cause the disorder.
In most cases, an affected person has one parent with the condition.

Fortunately, this is a treatable condition. It is, however, often the cause of sudden death in young people after exertion. Think of the runners, football players, basketball players, etc. who suddenly keel over and die. These articles suggest screening young athletes for the condition. (Please don;t stop reading here- there’s more important information…)

Screening athletes for heart disease
Screening for Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy in Young Athletes
Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy screening program in the athlete

The doctor suggested that all of my children be tested and if any were affected, their children be tested. We are going through that process in an attempt to identify if any of them are at risk. My children who are not affected do not have to test their children because it being a dominant gene, if the parent doesn’t have it, the children won’t.

I spent a lot of time thinking about whether there were any deaths of young people in my family and remembered that I had two cousins, brothers, who died of heart attacks- one at 31 and one at 39 (I may be off by a couple of years, but I think it’s accurate). These are the sons of my father’s sister. That would mean that my father and his sister both carried this gene. There are other family members who could be affected- at least five young people- and I hope their parent/grandparent who is a possible carrier will choose to be tested.

So why am I writing this? People sometimes like to hide unpleasant things from their family members- but secrets, particularly those that could affect someone else’s health, are rarely a wise thing. What my children or grandchildren may have gotten from me genetically is not something I had any control over, but I can do whatever I can to make sure they are protected, don’t over-exert themselves, and make sure to have regular medical follow up. I hope that my cousins will take the same responsibility with their children and grandchildren.

May we all have a healthy, happy new year.

1976/2018

1976- we are in the Army. Well, actually, Aaron is in the Army, but the rest of the family is right there with him. We were getting close to 4 years in Fort Campbell, Kentucky. Our children enjoyed playing in the swamp near our house, enjoyed the “Mother Nature Tree,” loved the freedom of running around the neighborhood with no fears. The Army base was a safe place. It had everything- an indoor swimming pool within easy walking distance, even a small convenience store a 5 minute walk away.

Like all Army families in our position, we were awaiting “orders” because 4 years in a place was a long time and the Army likes to move people around and we were expecting that soon we would be told where we were moving to.

This was the only home the children really knew. Our children were 8.5, 7, 5.5, and 4 years old. Moving was venturing into the unknown.

Word finally came. We were moving to Wiesbaden, Germany. We had only about 3 months to prepare. We would be leaving behind most of our furniture (furniture was supplied to Army families since it was cheaper than transporting it across the ocean twice- we would see it again when we returned), all of our friends, and yes, our family- our parents and my sister.

There were so many unknowns, so many fears- we had no idea what our neighborhood would be like, what our city would look like, how German people would treat us as Americans, as Jews, how much German would we need to use on a daily basis- in short, we were bewildered. And as much as we tried to reassure our children that everything would be fine, we ourselves were not all that certain about what life would be like for us and for them.

Our parents lived far from us- in New York and Philadelphia. We didn’t see them more than once or twice a year, but we could call them on the telephone and we knew that we could always get in a car and visit. Now we would be across an ocean and the price of telephone calls was outrageous and letters took days to arrive. I know they must have been upset, but they didn’t try to influence us to stay since it was not our choice.

Our time in Germany was pleasant. In some ways, almost idyllic. Anti-Semitism at the time was completely forbidden and when people asked us what language we were speaking to our children and we answered “Hebrew,” we never got anything but positive reactions. We were cushioned by the huge American military community which comprised at that time about 10% of the inhabitants of Wiesbaden. Our children went to US operated schools and had German enrichment classes. They learned rudimentary German and felt comfortable buying candies and sweets in local shops. Their schools took them on day trips to places in Germany. The country was beautiful and we enjoyed exploring it and participating in the recreational “Volksmarches” that were held in different locations where people would walk a circular 10-12 kilometer path that could wind through woods, vineyards, fields, and villages and end in a square with an “oompah” band! The German people were friendly and the landscapes enchanting.

Our parents, Aaron’s dad and my parents, (his mother had passed away in December of 1975) were still relatively young and healthy and they were able to come and visit us.

But now I am the parent and I am feeling sad because my daughter and her family are leaving for their adventure. They tell me that they will return from Austria in 3 years.

In some ways, their transition may be easier because they have seen where they will be living and they have rented a home they chose. Communication with family members here in Israel will be much easier. We are as close as the nearest wifi. The flight is shorter than a trek across the Atlantic and less expensive. In other ways, it will be more difficult. They will not have the cushion of a ready-made community with all of the support and structure it offers.

As I look at the next 3 years, I feel as if I can’t wait for them to pass, but I am conflicted because at this time of life, each day is so precious that each one must be treasured.

I wish for my daughter and her husband and the 3 children who are leaving with them (3 are already adults and will not be accompanying them) a wonderful adventure. We hope to visit you, Rachel, and we look forward to your visits with us. I will be very happy to reminisce with you about your adventure when you finally return home.