a million places...

Life is hard. I learned this from my dad when I was about six and gleefully told him that I wanted to go to work... right away. It looked like so much fun! My fathers response "Kiddo, life is hard. You don't want to work sooner than you have to." He is right on both counts.

Life is hard. I am dealing with that right now. I am a new citizen in a country that is only 59 years old. My dad is older than that! Over the past year I have dealt with a lot but my heart is heavy right now. My brain is in a million places. I can't focus and I am going out of my mind. I am worried.

Last week, I spoke to my grandfather. He sounded terrible. He shields me from a lot because he doesn't want me to focus on him or his illness. He wants me to enjoy being Israeli. This week was different. He told me he is dying. When I spoke with my mother, she scoffed at the idea and told me he's been talking about death for months. This time felt different to me.

Now my Papa is in the hospital. He is sick, like he told me last week. The doctors found an infection but they don't know where it came from. If he is a cat with nine lives, he is quickly running out of them. Two years ago, when I made my decision to move to Israel, my mother informed me that my Papa had three months left to live. The doctors told my Papa his Leukemia had taken over. I've been lucky to have him for almost two years after that.

I feel like a horrible grand-daughter. Not just because I live in Israel and I am not there to help him, but also because I pray. While I am not an overly religious Jew, I turn to HaShem for a lot of things. He helps with the day-to-day things, he listens when I complain about my love life, I ask him for a peaceful mind when it comes to family matters. This time I asked him to put my Papa out of his misery.

It sounds horrible. I feel horrible for doing this but apparently it does not make me a bad person. I want his hurting to stop. I look at my dad's parents and see life in them still. I hear hope in their voices when I speak to them on Shabbos. I don't hear that same hope when I talk to Papa. I hear pain and suffering. I want what is best for him. When I moved to Israel, I figured I would never see my Papa again. I do my best to keep up with the phone calls, but it's hard and life gets in the way. Life is hard.

I wish my Papa peace. I wish him good health. He has had a long life. I wish my family peace because it cannot be easy, especially for my mom, to watch him suffer. This past week I have learned how hard life really is. I have been faced with many challenges and I seek guidance from g-d... I just wish things weren't so sad and my brain was focused... instead of in a million places.

disliking the unknown

This entire month of April, starting with 1 April, has been shit. Truly shit. My heart is broken, I am unmotivated to do anything, all I want to do is sleep, and to add on to it- my grandfather is sick. My question to god is "when does it get better?" When does my heart mend? When will my grandfather not be in pain any more? When will I like being awake?


I await his answer...

to be free...

Last night started the Yom Ha'Atzma'ut festivities! Shira and I have taken to calling our everyday activities together "adventures." So last night was the Adventures of Hillary and Shira: Yom Ha'Atzma'ut. It was SO much fun! It's hard to transition from Yom Ha'Zikaron to Yom Ha'Atzma'ut but if you think about it, it's a brilliant idea. When you're sad, especially as a nation, and mourning those you've lost, it feels good to let loose.

I LOVE Yom Ha'Atzma'ut! It is a lot more festive than the 4th of July. Israeli's understand the meaning of freedom because we are only a few steps away from having it taken away from us. The UN, practically all of Europe, and the Arab world would rather Israel not exist. I value my freedom much more here. Don't get me wrong, I love being American but it's a special feeling knowing that I made the conscious decision to move and become an Israeli citizen. It hit me over Pesach that most of my family didn't realize that I actually made Aliya. They thought I was here just for school. It shocked some people that I am now an Israeli citizen. I love being Israeli, just as much as I love being American. I am blessed for that.

So, last night started with Shira arriving at my apartment with beer. With camera's in hand, we headed to Ra'anana to Park Ra'anana where the festivities were interesting. It was like a giant fair! We hung around for about two hours, ate a little, had some coffee, and then ventured with Dan to Tel Aviv. My friend Ari told me about the block party on Florentine in South Tel Aviv. There were people my age hanging out, drinking, eating corn (it's an Israeli thing)... just having a good time. Of course, I got bored after 10 minutes. I don't like crowds. Shira and I ran into our friends Katha and Karel then we ventured for burgers. I am not the party animal I used to be and I think it's because I had that time in my life. Now is the time for me to be an adult.

I was a little sad yesterday though. I thought about how my life has changed a lot in the past year. I moved from Michigan to Israel. I left Rehovot to go to school in Herzliya. I have found my way around town and around the country. I have come into my own. I have loved and lost. I find myself sad over something that recently ended but hopeful for what may be. I appreciate my life a lot more now than I did a year ago. I miss my family a lot more now than I did a year ago. I have a new appreciation for Shabbat and rest time. I appreciate my friends a lot more. I also understand the real meaning of freedom.

Remembering...

It has been a very strange day. I woke up and got a phone call from a friend saying there was a bomb threat at my school. At first I thought maybe she was kidding but she was not. Some sick person decided to call the Herzliya police and tell them there was a bomb on my campus. The IDC was inundated with the bomb squad, IDF soldiers, and police officers. Did they find anything? No. Jokes like this aren't funny.

It seems fitting now though. It is almost 12:30am in Israel and Yom HaZikaron has just started. Yom HaZikaron is Israel's memorial day. Unlike in the United States, we don't have bar-b-q's. We don't go shopping. We remember our soldiers, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, husbands, wives, girlfriends, boyfriends...etc. We remember those we lost. We remember those that fought so bravely for this country. We honor them.

When the Second Lebanon War broke out over the summer, my family begged me to return to the United States. I could not do that. I am tied to this land. My friends were in the army, my family members were in the IDF, and those I love continue to fight for this country's existence! I don't blame people who left, I do not call them cowards. Staying here was not an easy thing to do. I think back, especially today, about those faces I saw on the tv, in the newspaper, and on the internet. The faces of people who fought valiantly. The faces of lives cut too short. I remember those faces of those lost this summer. I remember a young woman from Rehovot. She would be my age right now, 26. She lost her life, fighting for Israel's right to exist. Children lost fathers. Mothers and fathers lost children. We lost friends and loved ones. Israel lost some of its greatest warriors.

It is by chance that Yom HaZikaron fades away and turns into Yom HaAtzma'ut. The day of sadness and mourning turns into the day of joy and celebration. Israel has taught me how to move on but not to forget. In America you can tell someone "have a happy memorial day" but here it is a different meaning, with a different context. We pay our respects with a two-minute siren, through memorial services, and through lighting candles. We want peace. Shalom L'Kulam- peace to all. We won't forget but we will move on...

everything I know about men...

I was instant messaging with a friend the other day about a boy issue when it hit me: everything I know about men, I learned from watching my father and my brother. Wow, talk about an eye opener. It is part of why I am so patient right now. I've learned the habits of men and I've learned from watching my mom, my stepmom, and my sister-in-law how to deal with the habits of men.

Neither my brother, nor my father, are the best examples of how a man should act. My dad got married too young and wasn't in love with my mother- as she was not in love with him, by the end of their marriage. However, one thing I learned from my dad is how to fight. Fight for what you want. Fight for what you care about. He fought hard for that marriage to work. Unfortunately, it was too late but things worked out well for my dad- he married my stepmom. My mom remarried too.

My brother waited to get married until he was older. In his 30's already. He was patient. I've seen him through fast relationships, I've seen him through long relationships, but I've never seen him look at a woman the way he looks at his wife. We all want to believe that our fathers and brothers are perfect, that they would NEVER hurt a woman. In reality, love sucks sometimes. John Legend sings "love hurts sometimes when you do it right" and we want to believe that love never hurts. That either sex would never do something to hurt the one they care for. It's bullshit. Women do hurtful things without realizing it...as do men. Perhaps this is why I am calm right now.

I told my sister today that one of the worst books a woman can read is "He's just not that into you" because it takes everything to extremes. I recently had to explain to my friends that my ex-boyfriend is not a bad guy for doing what he needs to do. They don't like how he is acting right now but he is acting like a guy. He is doing what guys do. I bombard my guy friends with questions about it all and I feel like I could write my own book. It might be titled "Love: It's not just black and white... sometimes it's gray!"

Love is not black and white. Sometimes you have to be patient and let things work themselves out. No relationship is perfect. Life is not the movies. Ryan Gosling is not going to chase after me. Whirlwind romances aren't all they are cracked up to be. Life is practical and sometimes that rush of passion that with some relationships you feel at the start, you have to wait for in others.

These are my theories on relationships. Take 'em or leave 'em.

Israel's importance

Once upon a time an evil man set out to destroy an entire religion of people. No matter where they lived, these people were not safe. From Poland to Greece, from France to Italy, no one was safe from this demonic plan. Of course, I am talking about Hitler and the Jews. Once upon a time was not so long ago.

I grew up knowing about the Holocaust because my grandparents are Holocaust survivors. I grew up understanding only a portion of their struggle. Sometimes my grandparents did not want to talk about the atrocities they endured. I live with their tales. I live with the knowledge that my grandfather was whipped mercilessly by Nazi's. I live with the thought of my grandfather carrying dead bodies. I also live with the understanding that Hitler did not succeed. I am alive. I am a living JEWISH being on this earth. Hitler's plan was not fully carried out.

I never understood the importance of Yom HaShoah until I landed in Israel ON Yom HaShoah in 2004. I saw an entire country come to a halt for a two minute siren. This siren memorializes those who perished and honors those that survived. In the United States, the President gives his annual speech about the Holocaust but it's not the same.

Three years, almost to the day, that I first set foot in Israel on Yom HaShoah, I am a citizen of Israel and I fully understand the importance of this country. After an hour long run, I returned to my apartment today just in time to hear the two minute siren. The entire country stopped. Young men got out of their cars to remember people they have no connection to. People stood at attention to remember those that fell to an evil mans plan. I stood at attention on my balcony to remember those that were lost... the family I never had the chance to meet. Those family members live on in the stories my grandparents tell, no matter how painful it is. Those stories are important, just as the State of Israel is important. We must not forget the six million. George Santayana is remembered for his famous words that nearly every Jew lives by "those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." For this very reason, we cannot forget and it is because we cannot forget, that the State of Israel was born and is still alive today.

One day, in the future (far off future for my parents reading this), I will tell my children about what their great-grandparents experienced in the Holocaust. I will tell them the stories that I remember being told about Poland and Hungary. I will tell them of their past because without knowing where you come from, you cannot know where you are going.

This Yom HaShoah, I urge you to remember the six million any way you can. It is important for the future of the Jews and for the future of the State of Israel.

hurt

I hate women's intuition. All day I have been feeling like something is off. I knew what it was but I wanted to deny it. The guy I'm seeing has become a bit distant. We vacationed in Eilat for a few days but when we returned home, I just had this feeling that he is hiding something. Before I went to bed tonight, I sent him an text asking if he still liked me. I needed to know. I didn't want to know, but I needed to know. His response: he doesn't know yet, he needs to think. Well, he will get his time. If it's one thing I am good at, it's sticking to something I put my mind to. Yet, I hurt. I cry. It hurts like a bitch. Not gonna lie on that one. How do you NOT know if you like someone? You like them enough to go on vacation with them, you like them enough to sleep with them, you like them enough to sleep next to them... but you're unsure if you actually like them. You stand by a person when they go through hell, just as they stand by you when you go through it as well.

If this had taken place a few weeks ago, it wouldn't have hurt so badly. Yet, somewhere over the past three or four weeks -- I fell. I fell for him. This is why it hurts. I miss him. I'm pissed that he needs this time right before my birthday. He will get his time to think and I will get mine. Now I need it, to know if this is right for me. It felt so right, it really did. It still does- just minus all this crap. We were taking things slowly, not many people knew about this... but now I don't know what will happen. The only thing I know is that this hurts...