For the last year, Israelis have been living something of a dual existence. All plans, big or small, are contingent on what’s happening with the war.
By war, I mean the attacks from whoever decides it’s their turn to target Israel – Hezbollah, Hamas, Iran, Houthis, you name it.
It’s reminiscent of the Jerry Seinfeld stand-up routine in which he declares that any plans made between guys are always tentative, dependent on whether one of them meets a girl. He explained that the unwritten pact had even been the cause of Apollo space mission delays when one of the astronauts started chatting up a prospective date on the way to the launch.
Same thing with here. “Sure, I’ll meet you for dinner tomorrow… unless Iran decides to retaliate.”
Sunday morning’s historic preemptive attack on hundreds of Hezbollah rockets and rocket launchers which were slated to direct their wrath at sensitive targets in Israel, and the resultant weakened barrage of other Hezbollah rockets on the country’s North, were both over by 7 a.m. before most of us had breakfast.
That meant that the day should be relatively clear sailing. For me, that meant sticking to our early evening plan to meet our son in mall-heavy Rishon Lezion to shop for a suit for his upcoming wedding.
The Canion Zahav was packed with shoppers and families trying to keep their children occupied during the late August post-summer camp, pre-school drought.
You wouldn’t know there was a war going on, or that Gaza was only some 50 kilometers away. We’re a resilient bunch, Israelis are. Either that, or we’re trying to stick to a routine as much as possible to fend off the demons, rage, fear, and horror that has permeated the atmosphere wherever we look.
As my son tried on suits, I exchanged messages with a friend in the US who had asked how we ‘were doing’ in the aftermath of the dramatic events of the early morning.
“Shopping for a suit for my son,” I answered, as if, what other answer could there be to a simple question like that. But, I quickly realized that the seemingly mundane act of shopping for a wedding suit was actually a pretty heady statement.
Choosing life
Could there be any act that represents hope and faith in the future then two people joining their lives together, building a home in Israel, and hopefully, giving their parents a bunch of grandkids?
My son, looking so handsome in the dressing room, was the only answer to the morning near-catastrophic attack by Hezbollah, and all of the other countries and terror groups who don’t want to see more Jewish weddings.
Despite the mire we find ourselves in, the notion that young people are still planning for the future – and see a future – is testament to the will and strength of the Israeli character.
On the other hand, it’s just a suit.
Feeling pretty good heading back through Jerusalem after the successful shopping excursion, a whatsapp message from my daughter in the US asked the foreboding question, ‘Is everyone ok?”
That’s a well-known and unfortunately overused code in Israel for ‘something happened.’ And of course, a quick check on the news sites confirmed that, indeed it had.
Hamas had launched a rocket toward Rishon Lezion that landed in an open area soon after we had left. They apparently also don’t like Jewish weddings. Tough luck for them.