Adar, So Far
Last week started off with two days of Rosh Chodesh. As if just in time to mark the upcoming miracle of Purim, the headlines featured a most incredible story of an 88-year-old man, Rav Koshlevsky, and his 56-year-old wife, who announced the birth of a baby boy. It was likened to the biblical miracle of Avraham and Sarah's, son Yitzchak. Quite the headline, indeed.
Parents and baby are well. To be sure, there was no shortage of commentary and discussion as to what is in store for this child, including the age his father will be at his Bar Mitzvah: 101!
The elderly rabbi had been childless his entire life, his wife already a mother and a grandmother. Dr. Doron Cabiri, who attended the delivery at Jerusalem’s Hadassah Hospital at Ein Karem, seemed genuinely overjoyed at having witnessed this rare event.
On Monday, there was a mass festive prayer gathering at Hostage Square in the plaza of the Tel Aviv Museum. It has been the scene of many gatherings over the past five months. It was so moving to see men and women joyously praying, singing, dancing with all their hearts and souls, first thing in the morning, even more so when Israelis from all levels of society were doing so in harmony. Last Yom Kippur there was an outrageous and sacrilegious fiasco when many gathered to conduct services and were harassed and taunted by those who could not bear to see Jewish prayers in the town square on the holiest day of the year. So, they nitpicked over the separation of women and men. The participants themselves were just fine with it, as that is what is customary and accepted. On Yom Kippur in the middle of Tel Aviv, on the holiest days of the year, Jews who wanted to pray were disrupted in the most appalling manner, by other Jews, for whom the day is of no concern. Their sheer lack of Derech Eretz had no bounds and reached the highest lows ever seen in this country. Curiously, just a few years ago many prayers were held outdoors due to limitations of Covid 19, and somehow, that 'passed'.
This past Monday there was just a line of tables separating them, no mechitza either, when they broke into spontaneous dancing circles. It was a machayeh to see such joy. One of the participants was Sigi Cohen, who lost her son Elia, along with others whose relatives are still in captivity. We are now into the second week of Ramadan or Ramadam (blood) as it is cynically dubbed. Daily attempts to keep the blood flowing are going on as I write.
I saw an interview with Dr. Yuval Biton, who is head of prison intelligence service. He was formerly the prison dentist and treated none other than Yiheye Sinwar, the man or should I say the devil, behind this current mess. Dr. Biton's nephew, Tamir Hillel was also killed in this current ordeal.
The Oscar speech by Jonathan Glazer upon winning an award for his film, Zone of interest was obnoxious. I have zero interest in anything said or done by this fill in the blanks. There is a wide range of four and five letter words in both English and Yiddish, to choose from. There is an inordinate and growing g number of disillusioned and disturbed individuals who struggle with their identity. They can do somersaults to hide it but damn, they cannot shake it. So, they twist. squirm and distort. What an abomination, as well as desecration of the victims, dead or alive, both Holocaust and Oct.7th. Shame on him for being ashamed to be a Jew!
On Thursday afternoon I took another of my long walks, knowing that within a few short months I will be treading with dread, going outdoors in the oppressive heat. So, from Emek Refaim till Ramban St. through posh Talbieh, through Rechvia's leafy peaceful streets, around Sa'adia Gaon, along Sir Charles Clore path overlooking the Valley of the Cross and up Ramban to grab the 19 for downtown, where I strolled. After a couple of minor errands, I board the bus home at the Davidka station. It was only about 2:45 p.m. but already on Thursdays the weekend is in the air. Bus was pretty full and along the way, as more passengers joined, it was packed do the gills. Once we approached the Liberty Bell Garden, we ground to a virtual halt and crawled, bumper to bumper for another good half an hour. I could not understand why. It was also stuffy, and I was surrounded by loud conversations. I was about to nod off. I wondered if there had been an accident or an incident. I am not in the habit of checking my phone for alerts of any kind. When I finally got home, I met a neighbour just outside the building. We chatted about the new toy terrier she had acquired for her daughter (cute, but scrappy and yappy). Then she looked up from her buzzing phone to say there had been pigua (terror attack). Oh, I thought, that explains the delay in traffic, but no, it happened at Beit Kama, a popular road stop on the way to Be'er Sheva. While standing in line to buy coffee, a 22-year-old no good, nothing, knifed a man in uniform. Uri Moyal fought him off, as other customers helped, and he shot him, 'eliminating' him. As he walked out, Uri collapsed and later died. A resident of Dimona, he was 51, married and father to three children. What a heroic final act. He died a true hero.
A new week has begun. I am trying to book a flight to Toronto to visit my nonagenarian parents and a handful of relatives. Prices shoot up and down by the minute. Few airlines and fewer options, all taking between 25 – 30 hours just to get there, with long layovers in Europe. After playing around with different combinations, I finally landed on something halfway decent and began to fill out my details. Just as I was about to fill in my payment details, suddenly a message popped up, saying the deal is no longer available!
https://www.ynetnews.com/culture/article/sybckqv6a?utm_source=taboola&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=internal
