It’s been an intense three weeks.

Actually, it’s been an intense six months.

When the twins came, I shared about how intense that was. There was one week at the end of June when all four of the younger children were in school at the same time, and that was a relief. I can’t say it was a quiet week since I spent three of those six days attending end of year parties in different cities for different children, but that was my big quiet chunk of time in this last six months. Ds6.5 and ds11 began their summer vacation in the beginning of July; the twins joined them at home for all of August. Having four children with special needs at home is a lot.

When the school year began, one of the younger four children stayed home from school for whatever reason almost every day. Then it was the holiday period, during which we hosted our mothers as well as all the married children and grandchildren for the the entire holiday (23 people plus two newborns for every holiday meal, plus a full house for all of the intermediary days). It was an enormous amount of work and I simultaneously thought about how grateful I was for all the busyness, and how very much I was looking forward to some downtime to unwind from the months of ‘being on’ for so many people.

Some news trickled in on Simchas Torah but it was immediately at the outset of the holiday that we were hit by the news of the brutal massacre of civilians in the south, and then the beginning of the war. I think it’s accurate to say that’s been an emotional weight on every person in this country.

There was no school throughout the country for about two weeks; the first shortened school day for our youngest four children was on a Monday (Oct. 23). That made it possible for me to visit my mother in the hospital in Jerusalem after she had been there for over a week. The next morning one child stayed home, while I fielded calls from the social worker about setting up a plan about how to support my mother when she left the hospital.

On Wednesday (October 25), all four of our children had school for the full day (until 2 pm) for the first time. That was fortunate since I was able to leave at 4:45 am to travel to Jerusalem and bring my mother to our home after her release from the hospital, getting back with five minutes to spare before needing to pick the twins up from school.

My mother needs a lot of support at this time, but I’m hopeful that in a few weeks she will regain her strength and be able to return to living independently. While my mother isn’t a demanding person, she needs physical assistance, as well as help filing paperwork for services that she needs; regular meals that need to be cooked and served; and I still have my very wonderful children with a lot of needs to take care of.

In a comment some time ago, someone wrote that apparently I have a high capacity to have people around me all the time. While it’s true that I’ve developed a higher capacity than I would have if I had a smaller family, I nonetheless need quiet time for myself to rejuvenate, and that’s been almost completely missing for close to six months. I’m physically and emotionally tired, and while I’m not at the very end of my rope, I’m feeling worn thin.

The lack of time to myself is a real issue and while I try to continue to do what needs to be done without getting overly emotional or resentful about it, sometimes I just want to be left alone. It is very, very hard to have personal space in my life at this time; as soon as I finish with one person, the next person is ready for me to be with them – from early morning until late at night. (This is actually how I became a night owl once I had teens – teens like to talk late at night, and in order to spend time with them and still have personal time, I would stay up until after they went to sleep at midnight to have time by myself. I made a huge effort to reverse that about eight years ago and love getting up early now, and don’t want to go back to staying up late as a solution.)

Regardless of how much I do, I’m still left with the feeling that what I’m giving isn’t enough for anyone. I’m just accepting that’s how it is right now.

I’m not going to write all about the importance of self-care and personal time, and how I’m managing to find that even in the middle of this. I think about that, I’m trying to find ways but right now I have fragments of time to myself and it’s very far from enough. That’s my reality right now. I’m doing the best that I can, I focus on my many blessings and…I’m depleted.

Though by the time evening comes I’m pretty worn out, fortunately night is followed by morning and each day I start the day with somewhat fresher energy. In every tough time and situation, dark is followed by light. Even when you can’t see it, the light is coming.

Avivah

I’ve been praying for each of the hostages individually and as a group every day, and last week shared the incomplete list that I was using. The list here seems to be the most updated, with the names missing from the last list now available. (It looks to me that the names of the two hostages that were freed yesterday have been removed.) I tried to load it here for you but it’s saved in a form that doesn’t allow downloads. I was able to print it out from the site linked.

While we understand intellectually that each of the hostages is an individual, reading each name can be very emotionally evocative. Some find that the emotion it brings up allows them to pray with more intention and focus, but others will be overwhelmed by the intensity of feelings that may come up.

If it’s too much for you to pray for the individuals, please say a general pray for their well-being and safety. There is no benefit to becoming emotionally overwhelmed by the thought of the suffering, and there’s no room for guilt about not using the list since there is no right or wrong way to pray.

When I use this list, I feel like I’m doing something concrete to help our suffering brethren. I find it powerful and helpful for me. Please take your emotional pulse and see what feels like the right way for you to pray for those suffering, and then do that.

And for those overwhelmed by their own desire to pray and do good deeds, but not managing to do it – it’s okay to think of our hostages while trying to be a calm and loving spouse/mother/individual. The entire Israeli society is so stressed right now and you can feel the tension everywhere you go. I think this is a situation of the airplane oxygen mask – first be sure your emotional equilibrium is set, and then tend to being of service to others.

Avivah

Last night I did something I’ve never done before – I went to a shiva of a family I didn’t know at all. When I saw on the funeral notice that the parents of one of the young men murdered at the music festival was sitting shiva fifteen minutes away, it was important to me to go.

My children asked me what I was going to do at a shiva where I didn’t know the family? The victims of last week’s terrible tragedies were mostly not outwardly religious, and it was important to me as an individual and also as a representative of the charedi community to share that all of us are crying over the loss of their children – we are one people and their loss is our loss.

So I went. I couldn’t tell who was sitting shiva when I went in, as I didn’t see anyone sitting in a low chair or wearing a torn garment. The atmosphere was different than shiva houses I’ve been to in the past, and I didn’t see the mother at first. Finally I asked someone where she was and went inside to speak with her for a few minutes.

Before leaving I said the sentence traditionally recited before leaving a shiva house:
Hamakom yenakhem etekhem betokh shaar avelay tziyon viyrushalayim – May the Omnipresent comfort you among the rest of the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem. She looked quizzical when I said it, and I wondered if I was saying something unfamiliar, even though shiva began several days ago. I had presumed until this visit that shiva customs were universally observed. In the future I would preface the phrase with a one sentence explanation.

This is a family and group of friends that identify as ‘leftists’, as I heard one of them say as I walked out. I’m not a political person and don’t like definitions that separate people but we live in a world where these identities can too easily obscure the person himself. While I did look and feel out of place, I’m nonetheless glad that I went and would encourage others to do the same. Unfortunately there are hundreds of shiva houses around the country right now and if you live in Israel, one is going to be in your proximity. The Jewish people is one family, and when one of us is hurt, all of us cry. I think there is some comfort in knowing that even those outside of one’s immediate sphere shares their loss.

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There are 164 199 (edited: higher number reported later in the day) Jewish hostages that were taken by terrorists into Gaza, including infants, young children and the elderly. We hope that more people will not be added to that number. Until today I was saying my own generic prayer for protection and safety for them all. When I saw this list with the name of each person listed, I was glad to have it so that I can pray for each of them individually.

Edited to add: I don’t know the source of this list; I don’t know how it was compiled and undoubtedly there are errors. There are people who may be listed who have since been found killed; there are hostages whose names are not listed. This seems to have been compiled last week and every day we are learning more and more. I’m sure there are errors – no one should consider this definitive. It’s what I’ve seen available at this point and it’s what I’m using until I see something different. My thought is that if I pray for someone who was killed, or someone who was hurt and later found, those prayers will still benefit them/their souls. My intention is to be of service in some small way by suggesting prayers are offered for these people; please don’t be upset at the lack of accuracy.

There is nothing- nothing – nothing – more powerful any of us can do than pray for the safety of all of these hostages.

If you prefer to pray for them in Hebrew, the list of names is below. I printed out a page of names for each of our family members to keep in their siddurim/prayer books.

At a time when we feel powerless and our ability to help seems almost non-existent, know that you can pick up this paper, ask Hashem/G-d to help these people, and read their names. It will take just a few minutes but the spiritual impact is enormous. No prayer is ever wasted, even if we don’t see the immediate desired result.

Avivah

Throughout Sukkos, there were a number of things I thought of writing about when the holiday was over, but all of those things faded into the background with the reality of war suddenly upon us.

Several times I’ve sat down to write but I don’t have time to finish my thoughts, and by the time I sit down again, whatever I wrote no longer seems relevant.

Thank G-d, our immediate family is fine. Unrelated to the war, one son had emergency surgery a few days ago and is doing well. My mother was hospitalized on Shabbos, released and is back at the hospital today, accompanied by my oldest son.

Here at home my nerves are a bit frayed. The constant sound of fighter planes in the sky, day and night since last Saturday night begins to wear on the nerves. Though honestly, it’s mostly my thoughts that are wearing. If it was all light and unicorns in Israel at this time, the sound of the planes wouldn’t be more than annoying at most.

We’ve set up our secure room and moved all four of the youngest children there so they are all sleeping there; that way we don’t have to wake them and move them if there’s an alert in the middle of the night. So far we’ve only had two alerts and since I was running late that evening, none of the kids were yet in bed. (Right after that we assembled a second bunkbed for the safe room to accommodate them all.)

I’m super grateful that in the five months the twins have been with us, they have dramatically calmed down. They still take a lot of emotional energy but it would have been extraordinarily difficult to have them home all day and deal with their heightened levels of anxiety and fear if this had happened in the early days of them being with us.

Many, many families from the south and north are moving to areas further from the immediate danger. Less than an hour ago I sent our phone number to a community rabbi in the south and let him know we can host a large family. I’m waiting for him to be in touch with me.

We are such a tiny, tiny country. We talk about the north and south, as if those areas are really far from everywhere else, when actually nothing is that far from the areas that are seeing active war. I’m approximately 130 kilometers from Lebanon; that’s not much more than an hour drive. Yet I feel so lucky to be so ‘far’.

The kids are all home; I haven’t told any of them about the larger situation. Since schools were cancelled on the first day after the holiday when the kids were supposed to go back, I just told them it’s still vacation. They’ve asked about when they’re going back to school but I can only say that I don’t know.

My four older boys immediately ended their vacation and began learning full-time at a local yeshiva for the spiritual war effort. My 21 year old is planning to go back to yeshiva today, and my 17 year old is supposed to go back tomorrow. I’d really rather my 17 year old stay here for now. He’s mostly alone in a dorm at night and that’s a lonely place to be at the best of times but at a time of war, would be alarming.

Last week we had a family meeting with our older boys to discuss our spiritual and physical approach to what is happening. As I told my children at the very beginning, war is good for two things: unity among the Jewish people and spiritual growth and connection to G-d. We began our meeting by listening to this fifteen minute talk about a spiritual approach to helping with the war. We discussed ways we could strengthen ourselves as a family spiritually and agreed on a few things.

At this time that people are staying close to home, I’m fully aware how fortunate I am to live where we have enough outdoor space to keep the kids occupied much more easily. I am grateful for all of my blessings.

At the same time, in the last few days I’ve felt like I’m moving through mud. Slow, lethargic, not efficient at all, physically present but not fully emotionally present with the kids. I was frustrated with myself, until I recognized that this is an emotional side effect of what is going on. Despite refusing to look at even one video of the atrocities and keeping my news intake limited, my mind is filled with thoughts of those affected, particularly the hostages.

At the same time, life as normal goes on. As I am writing this, rain began pouring down for the first time in over seven months. I got up to take out raincoats for each of the younger kids. Now they’re dancing delightedly in the rain, while upbeat music is playing throughout the house. It’s all so pleasant and joyful, and I want it to be like that.

It’s a lot of emotion to juggle.

Avivah