It felt like a simulation was initiated in 2020 with no idea when it would end. Or is this our new way of life?
When I started writing this in December 2023 I am not even sure what world or Era or simulation we are in! The world for a lack of better words is FUCKED UP!
In the previous post I shared with you some beautiful photos from my trip to Israel this past Spring. (Many will be added to the print shop hint hint). I did not touch on much of the trip as it truly is so hard right now to think of anything.
October 7th changed the lives of Jewish people everywhere. Many question as to how it can even effect an American Jew since we aren't in Israel. Every Jewish person is 1 or 2 steps away from having family or friends living in Israel, fighting in the reserves, was at the music festival or had friends at the festivals or living on the kibbutz that were ravaged.
15million people.
.2% or the world population
And in my head I hear
"Where ever you go there's always someone Jewish. You are never alone when you say your a Jew. So when you're not home and you are somewhere kind of newish. The odds are don't look far, cause their Jewish too. Da nana nananah na nana nananah na na."
The journey never stops. No matter what's occurring time keeps moving.
Here we are, February 2024. So much has occurred in 2 months that this blog was put to the wayside. Since October 7th, I have dealt with so much loss. From loss with friends, loss in society's will to be there for Jews, loss of family, and I'm just trying to not lose myself in the process. It's been about 14months of trauma and dealing with trauma and trying to heal from traumatic events, all while the next traumatic thing hits.
My head feels like it's in a tornado of recurring thoughts. Jumping from one to the next as it spins and then brings back a thought that spiraled down and back up again. The Tasmanian Devil has been hard at work in my mind and I wish roadrunner and coyote would appear with explosives and knock the tornado out of my head.
There's been so much sadness that sometimes I do wonder how I see the light.
January 9th 2024, I lost my Bubbe. I didn't lose her though, she was back with my Zayde. She is now in peace. My Bubbe had a brutal battle with cancer that started the moment my mom and I returned from Israel back in April. Though it was long and at times she wanted to stop she was able to be around for so much. Such as, Jewish holidays, my sisters wedding, birthdays, etc. She touched everyone with her gentleness and smile she walked around with. I am beyond saddened and fortunate to have been able to spend time with her.
At the funeral, the Rabbi made some points that resonated with me. Bubbe happened to be buried on Rosh Chodesh ie Head of the month. This is a very important day of the month. We learned it is a women's holiday where women do nothing. As well, this is the one day of the month you don't ask G-d to forgive your sins as it's a day for atonement. Even the Torah portion for that week had points that resonated with me and helped me cope with her passing. I'm no super religious person and sometimes things just make sense.
Now my family couldn't half ass something if they wanted to. We only know how to "full ass".
"When it rains, it pours"
The same day my Bubbe decided she was done fighting and opted into hospice, my grandfather wound up in the hospital. In one day I visited my Bubbe and then went into Boston to visit my grandfather. He was hooked up to all sorts of lines but his mind was still sharp. He was pointing and telling me streets and landmarks that were part of his life. He was diagnosed with congestive heart failure.
My grandfather was eventually discharged only to then get worse again. When his mind started to not be as sharp we knew something was not right. Family came in from everywhere to see him. We laughed, cried, talked, and drove my grampa nuts. I was part of the conversation with doctors when they expressed the next steps. He was given a few days to a week or so to live.
Per everyone in my family, things didn't go normally. He wound up getting better, like alarmingly better. They call it "moonlighting" but this was the longest moonlighting ever. Around 3 weeks after the conversation with the doctors, surrounded by family he peacefully went. One month and 1 day after my bubbe past, my grandfather left this plane.
This time when I received the news I was already delirious from being very sick, and I cried. I cried and shed tears for what felt like an eternity. Some of the tears for my grandpa, some for my Bubbe, some for myself, and the rest of the water that escaped my body was just that, an escape. A release.
At this point, I truly do not know how I wake up each day and get through it. For many years, it feels like I'm constantly pulling myself up from the bootstraps. Yanking, and pulling them on as my feet drag behind me. I bend at the ankle to plant my feet on the ground. One by one the sole of my feet strike the ground to create steps. Barely enough energy to plant each foot one after the other. Steps become walking, walking takes me down a path. Movement in some direction, any direction just to keep going.
My limbs keep moving as my head stays in a fog. In reality, there aren't many bad days but a lot of bad moments that could consume a day or parts of it. Each day is different and yet each day it is harder to wake up and pull my body out of bed. The energy to bend my knee, bend my ankle and place my souls on the ground wanes...
I'm a marionette and I hold the strings.
Comments