And for a change of pace, Ebola

It’s after midnight and my eyes are burning, but I didn’t want to let a day pass without writing something. It was a long, weary day, but with the award of having youngest son back home with us.

It wasn’t really easy deciding to bring him home, particularly after the very exciting night we had. There were repeated booms which shook the house, and one that was so big it was beyond startling. Then there was the crack-of-dawn tseva adom. For some reason they shoot the rockets at us generally just as the bats are bedding down for the day. My middle son, who lives and works in Sderot, says that the rockets there have all been coming while he is at work. It isn’t significant of anything, but it is curious.

Anyway, The Husband had to go in to work, and the office is in Hod HaSharon. It seemed as long as he would be driving more than halfway there, I could then drive the rest of the way to pick up youngest son, and save having to take a separate trip at the end of the week. Then, too, tomorrow night the folk club meets in Sderot, and I know that youngest son was wanting to sing there. It all pointed to bringing him home today, even though the indications were not good of him getting good sleep here.

When the metapelet showed up, we hurried getting me bathed and dressed, and out the door with TH. Now, I may not be able to walk, I may not even be able to stand, but I can almost *always* drive. It doesn’t require the same kind of balance, and my body is nicely held in place by the bucket seat and the seatbelt, so I’ve no worries of falling over. I can’t drive stick shift any longer, which is sad, but my right leg generally works well enough to handle the pedals.

In fact I fantasized as I was driving the last leg of the trip by myself about what, if anything, I could do that would be useful or helpful during an emergency. And what I could do, if it was needed, was to drive. I can drive a car, a truck, a bus. I can keep the wheels moving and transport people, supplies, whatever. Just don’t expect me to get out of the car. I was fantasizing about accommodations that might allow me to drive non-stop in whatever fantastical emergency might require such sustained driving – no need to get graphic, but I was thinking about physical needs and how they could be met. Anyway, it was a pleasing fantasy in that in it I was actually able to do things to help other people. Not something I have so much opportunity to do.

I hear and read about other people bringing the soldiers supplies, water, baking pizzas for them and so on, and I wish that I could do something, anything, participate in this huge outpouring of support. After all, it’s not like they are far away. But soon enough I return to reality in which driving an hour one way to pick up my son to bring him back to the more immediate war zone is about what I can accomplish.

I did get a bit of knitting done in the car while TH was driving. I’m working on yet another blanket for yet another grand-kid. Not actually one of mine, but my grandkids’ half-sister.

There is a point where writing about the various booms, rockets, interceptions, tsevei adom, and so on is simply repetitive. The rocket alerts still send us running for the ‘shelter’ of the hall, but I think more often the feeling is irritation rather than fear. The big guns fire, the house rattles, it is all just more of the same. It seems as if the drama has gone out of the war and it becomes one big slog. Everything takes longer. We are all doing everything as if we were under-water, or sleep-walking.

My oldest son is working, making money. My daughter in the army is the most affected, both because she is more involved in what is going on, and because of all of us she is the only one who can’t get away from it, even for one night. The Husband doesn’t remember what it is like not to be tired. And of course the several hours spent in the car today didn’t add to my feelings of being capable and having anything going on.

In fact life during this war has become just normal life with a whole lot more tired, and a lot more noise. Of course the various tragedies of the injured and the dead, the places damaged and homes destroyed don’t get old precisely. It’s more random. I might read three or six reports, and for some reason the next one hits me particularly hard and the tears come to my eyes. And then the next, and the next.

Eventually I can’t read the news reports any more. In fact last night I desperately needed a break but couldn’t bear to switch to the light fluff that generally entertains, so instead I spent a quarter hour catching up on the Ebola situation.

On that note I think it is time for me to stop, shut my eyes, and try to get some sleep. Tomorrow is another way to exhausting day. Hopefully with some fun at the end of it, but I’ve no clue from this end what I will be up to.

I have to fall asleep now so that I will be able to get up for the early-morning tseva adom. 🙂 Good night, all.


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