I’ve lived in Tel Aviv for twenty months and I’m still discovering parts of it. I’ll probably continue to do so for a long time.
Independence Park is my latest find. It’s not so far from my home and has existed for decades, so I really should have known about it. It has wonderful views of the sea below. I expect I’ll be returning to it soon.
Holocaust Remembrance Day started off fittingly dark.
This year we remember the Holocaust in the aftermath of the 7th October massacre, the worst tragedy that has befallen the Jewish people since the Holocaust. There are some who want to call that day another Holocaust, but most disagree. During those awful years, while a few brave individuals risked their lives to save others, most Jews had nowhere to turn. Today, we have a state and an army.
In recent years, when the siren went off, I’ve stood on the balcony facing Jerusalem’s Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Museum. This year, in Tel Aviv, I took a short walk ending at Jerusalem Beach.
There I stood on the raised platform, watching the movement around me. On one side, the waves constantly rose and fell on this windy day. On the other side, people walked or ran past and traffic came in waves, often halting at the traffic light. In the distance, four young men kicked and headed a ball to each other.
At ten o’clock, the siren went off and everything stopped. Traffic came to a standstill, walkers and runners stood still, the young men let the ball roll to a stop as they, too, stood still. Only the waves continued to roll, oblivious to the occasion. Two minutes later the siren stopped, traffic started up, people continued their activities and I walked home.
I’m thinking of the six million who died in the Holocaust. I’m thinking of the one thousand two hundred who died on 7th October. I’m thinking of all the hostages still in Gaza after seven months, who didn’t hear the siren and probably don’t know that today is Holocaust Remembrance Day. I’m thinking please, bring them home.
Last week, on the 11th April, I attended a wonderful workshop facilitated by Judy Lev. At the beginning of the workshop, we had to write a first draft about anything we wanted. Then we learned how to work on our drafts. Then we tried to put the tips into practice. I ended up with this:
Today, I commemorate the eleventh of April, the day of my marriage to David nearly five decades ago. This is the first year I celebrate that date alone.
Yes, celebrate. Because no one can take away the memories of forty-five sunny years, and reflecting on them makes me happy. Now, I live in a new place, I see my family often, the sun still shines and I can be happy in other ways.
When I post memories with David on social media, people say, “I see it’s hard for you.” But I don’t feel that way; the memories make me smile. When I explain that, they shake their heads in disbelief. But it’s true, honestly.
No doubt, the piece could be improved further, but it’ll do for now.
Following on from my previous post, I have created a new Facebook account, which is only for friend friends. When I’ve created an author page, I’ll post the link here.
And Tel Aviv is amazing…
Miriam Drori, Author