The way life bent but didn't break

When the war is over, this is what I'm going to remember about this time:

I'm going to remember my neighbor's daughter in her green uniform leaving her house on Shabbat morning to go serve when the war began.

I'm going to remember that feeling of readyness when the sirens began- I had been preparing for this and knowing that it was coming. Jumping out of bed with an awareness that it was time.

I'll think about the way the sky cracked open and massive pieces of metal fell from the sky. That you can never prepare for.

The sound of the siren and the impact of the explosions overhead when they ruptured.

I'm going to remember the people who reached out to me to express concern, connection, or love. I'm also never going to forget who I didn't hear from when I was in the middle of a warzone.

I'm going to remember the way my teens really tried their best to stay cheerful- amusing each other, playing games, singing, sharing candy and stories and laughs in the shelter. Our time together has been bonding even if sometimes we make each other crazy...

A snuggle with my puppy in the shelter. Taking a break in the warm spring weather in the yard. Continuing phone calls during sirens. Burning out every so often and curling up into a ball in exhaustion.

I'm going to remember the way all my work plans fell by the wayside, but our community stepped up anyway to bring the Haggadah into the world. The posting, the purchasing, the shipping, coordinating, messages, the late nights and early mornings, and working through sirens, and accepting that none of it was in my control. I relearned some serious (Covid era) lessons about that.

I learned that I am capable of a deep sense of surrender to the One who is in control. I can only do my best. The rest is up to Him.

I won't forget how work sustained me. Distracted me. Distressed me. Filled me with gratitude and humility. All the helpers and supporters.

I'll remember how time moved incredibly fast. We blinked, and we're weeks into this war. Time stopped making sense. Hours blinked by, counting by sirens that I even lost track of.

I'll remember the blessing of the b*mb shelter. How grateful I felt to be sheltered at all, knowing what was above our heads. How we made it comfortable and functional, and all the people who visited us and spent time with us too. The sweetness of sheltering others and providing safety.

I will remember the hatred that came our way. I'll remember that it made no difference. Our country and people act according to our principles, no matter the lies said about us.

I'll remember our strength and resilience. Our cleverness and confidence. Our coordination with our allies and our new partnerships. How proud I am to be Jewish and Israeli. How nothing anyone said ever changed that.

I'll remember all of it.

The fear, the stress, the sleeplessness.

The way life bent but didn't break.

When the war is over, this is what I'm going to remember.

I will never forget who we were when it mattered most.