From the Triangle to Israel, Jewish families collectively heartbroken
In the early hours of Saturday morning, I awoke to a message from a dear friend. Her alarm that morning had been an air raid siren. We immediately began reaching out to family and friends, checking in on everyone, making sure they were ok. By the time we had climbed out of bed, Benjamin Netanyahu had declared that Israel was at war. Not a military operation. War.
The day was spent in a haze, glued to the news, reaching out to anyone we could, feeling both helpless and relieved at our distance from the country we call home.
The people of Israel are under attack. Every civilian is on the front line.
Barbara Kaynan, a dear friend and local mental health professional, spoke of her cousin, living in a small community on the outskirts of Tel Aviv, patrolling the community with others so that the residents can sleep. This war is not one army against the other. Innocent civilians are being targeted, kidnapped, or killed on the spot.
Stories of people having to barricade in their home’s safe rooms while terrorists try to break down the doors. Children have been left to fend for themselves, an elderly couple held hostage for more than a day. Hundreds of young concert goers gunned down in cold blood.
In other parts of the country, my friends send me pictures of their babies going to sleep in bomb shelters, having to comfort their children alone while their husbands get called to army reserves. They are making plans to leave the country if the situation in the center gets worse.
I have lived through wars.
I moved to Israel, young and naive, in the middle of the Second Lebanon War. I left Ben Gurion Airport and was driven straight to Haifa, in the north of the country. We had just turned right to drive up the mountain when an air raid siren sounded. We parked at the side of the road and ran to shelter. I spent two weeks living in a bomb shelter while rockets fell that shook the building and ball bearings landed in our backyard.
I have stood on a bridge in Tel Aviv watching rockets fly overhead and been painfully aware that there was nowhere I could take cover in that moment.
I have huddled with others next to brick walls and slept in bomb shelters.
I have lived experience and yet, this war hits so differently as a parent. The amount of mothers and fathers that went to sleep last night, not knowing where their loved ones are makes me physically ill. Pictures are circulating on Facebook of the missing men, women and children – dead, kidnapped or in hiding – with phone numbers and people to contact if they are found.
Friends here, in the Triangle, are missing their loved ones. This war hits too close to home for a great many in our community. If you haven’t, check on your Israeli and Jewish friends. Ask how they’re doing. Let them know you’re thinking of them.
As I type this, our community is collectively heartbroken over what is happening on the other side of the world.
Nili Zaharony is a WRAL Family contributor. She is the mom to 3 little ones (ages 6, 4 and 2) who keep her constantly on her toes.
