Exclusive: ‘I fight down panic. I cry. I grieve. I read too much news’

The words of a Jewish mother of two in Jerusalem, who made aliyah from London in 1996.

Israeli flag Pic: UJIA Facebook
Israeli flag Pic: UJIA Facebook

When we bought our apartment it was because it was in a good location, a decent price, a good shape to enable maximum use of small space, surrounded by greenery, and it had a little store room with a window separate from the apt that was a great bonus.

I didn’t take into account the fact that it doesn’t have a safe room.

On the other hand, the shelter on the ground floor, next to our little store room and only seconds from our apartment, has a toilet, sink, and even a pair of shabby sofas!

And now it has working plug sockets, and a box of shelf stable food, and I have a bag by the door with other emergency supplies to carry down with me.

I pray and hope that none of it will be necessary.

In the last few days, I have:

Gone through our supplies at home to collect toiletries to send to displaced families from the south.
Also sent games and teddy bears and books.
Bought toiletries and food for soldiers.
Gone through my closets and found clothes that don’t fit anymore (including all my maternity clothes) and packed them up for displaced people. Found a couple of bags of clothes the kids wore years ago and packaged them up too. Dropping them off hopefully today.
Donated money to several relief efforts.
Directed concerned friends who wanted to donate to those same efforts.

Today hopefully I will be helping a friend prepare fruit and vegetables for staff at a hospital who are so overwhelmed with patient care that they don’t have time to go to the hospital cafeteria and eat.

Between times, I fight down panic. I cry. I grieve. I read too much news. I rage at our feckless government. I worry incessantly for loved ones on the front line. I tear up at the countless acts of bravery and giving the amazing citizens of this country are carrying out. I take comfort in my beautiful children and then I feel simultaneously guilty for taking comfort in them when others are grieving theirs. My mind shies away from the terror at what may still be to come.

I am barely sleeping. Adrenalin courses through me constantly, along with the fear. I can’t even think about working. I need a clear mind for that. I already didn’t work this month because of sukkot. I guess there will be no income for me for quite a while. Back to depleting savings again.

The kids are going back to zoom school. Much as I want them home, with me, in seconds’ reach of a bomb shelter, when I heard that I cried. So much PTSD from covid lockdowns.

We’ve been trying to get my parents home to London but all the tickets we book keep getting canceled.

Thoughts of an early morning, sixth day of a war for our survival, after the worst massacre of helpless Jews since the Holocaust.

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