The rockets have stopped, but I’m still expecting incoming

I had a really bad night, and when the time came to get up to go to the amusement park today, I honesty questioned whether my going wouldn’t just be a huge drag on everyone. However I did pull myself together, with a lot of help from TH, and managed to get dressed and out to the car with a bag full of supplies for surviving the day.

The most important of these was food, but a close second was my knitting and a book, for the time I expected to be parked somewhere while the guys had fun, and I just tried to stay as cool as possible. I guess I had some low expectations.

It was a pretty wonderful day overall. I managed to get on a water ride which wasn’t very exciting at all, and really quite pleasant to get splashed and to smell air that was full of water spray. Those sort of things don’t happen in the summer in the desert here. The park was definitely more Israeli than American, and lacked the frantic feel of so many amusement parks I’ve been to in the States.

We split up at the gate, the guys went off to do what they wanted to do, and The Husband and I wandered around, just finding things and getting a feel for the park. Once we’d done that and also managed to get onto the water ride, I picked a bit of artificial grass under a shade umbrella(tent?) by a pond which had swan boats. There were plenty of nice, quiet, shaded spots I could have sat in. I switched to a plastic chair and put my feet up on the seat of the wheelchair, and had a very pleasant time knitting, people-watching, chatting with various family-members as they wandered by, generally just enjoying being there. I even think that it would be worth it to pay the admission price just to sit there of an afternoon sometime.

The only thing that marred the scene was someone using a loudspeaker across the pond from where I sat. I couldn’t make out the words, but every now and again he would say something with the same cadence as ‘tseva adom,’ and my attention was immediately riveted. I live in the south in Israel, and only people in our part of the south have the ‘tseva adom’ alert. In the centre they have sirens, and twice, once when we were in the parking lot, there was a sound like the slight sound that the sirens make just before they go off. I don’t know if it is a click, or what; but I think everyone would recognize it as the sound just before a siren goes off. So when I heard that it made me spin around, looking for what/where/who. Of course there were no rockets, no sirens, no ‘tsevei adom,’ but in a way that made it harder to relax. There was some incredibly loud ‘booms’ coming from outside of the park, and TH and I discussed it because we’d both been reacting to them. He thinks it is related to some construction, and they were pretty regular booms. I remember thinking that I wanted to tell someone ‘we’re from the south, and that is just too disturbing for us.’

One way that I know that the ceasefire is for real is that there was no news. Absolutely no news. It’s kind of weird. The headline story on one news site is something two days old – there’s no war news and no one has anything else to report about. I’m sure in the next couple of days all the old bickering and politics and assorted silliness will once again take over the news pages, but for today, it was as if without the war no one could think of anything to say.

We stopped in Sderot on the way home to pick up pizza. Pizza is our go-to party food. There was a moment there that I thought I heard the start of an alert. Just jumpy, I guess. Also, the reflexes are prepared to jump and run, and suddenly there is nothing to jump for or run from.

I could have gone for a walk tonight for the first time in I don’t know how long without worrying about being too far from the house or the bomb shelter, but I was so very dead from the whole big day out that TH and I finished watching Saving Mr. Banks and now I’m writing this before (hopefully) going to sleep.

The news sites aren’t the only one who are going to have to fill up some dead space now that the war has paused, or maybe even stopped. I’m not going to begin to try and guess that one. The fact that I can reasonably expect *not* to have rockets incoming tonight is enough to be getting on with. Youngest son even went to sleep in his own room. He says just for tonight and he’ll see how it goes. I am so glad we have a chance to get back to something resembling normal.

Only on top of everything else fun we’ve been coping with, TH got a phone call from his work, that he must come in to the office tomorrow (Thursday is a day he always works from home) and he has meetings scheduled with the two biggest bosses. I guess I don’t have to worry too much about TH being fired – he’s pretty indispensable there. But I still worry about one more thing, challenge, change. I’d be just thrilled if everything could just stay stable and unchanging, even just for a little while. It is too much to have to deal with all these ‘normal life’ things on top of everything else.


Oh, well. There is some hope that the latest round of hostilities has ended. I’ll believe it when days turn into weeks and nothing starts up again, but there is hope – a good thing. And my daughter-in-the-army was able to take tomorrow off so that I won’t have insufficient help while TH is off at the office instead of just in the next house.

Now I just pray for a better and easier tomorrow. And for peace to spread out like ripples on a pond. It would be nice.


2 thoughts on “The rockets have stopped, but I’m still expecting incoming

  1. I hope that the ceasefire continues and the dichotomy or the line in the sand that people draw between different religions and races is overcome.
    It’s all over the news here because unfortunately it’s not the usual depiction of violence that we tend to get from that part of the world. Imagine that; peace not being the norm.

  2. Unfortunately I don’t have to imagine peace not being the norm. Coming from the U.S., I do remember the sense that war was a temporary thing when it happened. I remember someone remarking in a MASH episode about the wars getting smaller. I hope (pray) that they keep getting smaller until they vanish entirely. Where I live that is not an easy thing to imagine, but violence *is* decreasing, overall and worldwide. There is my hope.

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