Rockets are Falling Again

Four yesterday, several more in the past week. It’s the build up before the action; it’s the question before the answer. How long will the Israeli government allow our people to live under rocket fire? The answer, as always, is in the results. We are waiting, as we always do, for the rocket that doesn’t miss, for the mortar that strikes true.

When it does, it will kill someone, perhaps, God help us, a child, a pregnant woman, a mother, a father, a much beloved grandfather, the grandmother who cooks for the whole family and makes it what it is. It might, again, be a few children playing in a yard. It might, again, hit a school just moments after the children have left the room. It might, again, hit a child, an only child of parents who waited so long to bring him into this world.

It will crush their lives forever. There is no tomorrow when you lose your today. So we wait until it happens, a bit angrier this time because we have been here before and even though we may have learned part of the lesson, in that we know what will happen, we haven’t learned enough.

According to the IDF 20 rockets & mortars were fired from the Gaza Strip during the first 10 days of 2011.

We are still stupid enough to care what other countries say, and other countries are as stupid and blind as they were in November, 2008. One hundred and twenty-four rockets and mortars “fell” that November. What a silly word – “fell.” Of course they did not fall. They were intentionally launched at civilian areas to maim and murder our citizens. These rockets and mortars were not fired at military targets, but at schools, homes, synagogues, hospitals, the heart and soul of our people, our children.

Today 171 truckloads of goods entered Gaza via Kerem Shalom and Karni crossings, and 2 truckloads of flowers & strawberries entered Israel.

Yesterday, four rockets were fired at Israel. Today, one rocket was fired at Israel.

Exactly two years ago, as we were days away from my youngest son’s bar mitzvah, I was facing the reality that my oldest son might not be there. He was stationed near Gaza, mere meters from the border and well within the range of the same kind of rockets being fired today. It was a nightmare from which I could not awaken. I spent my days in a daze of fear and tears.

For many months, even years, I had been trained to be thankful each time they announced that the rocket had hit in an “open area.” Suddenly, in the middle of the war, I realized my son was stationed in one of those open fields. What am I supposed to pray for now? I wondered.

There are no words, even now, to explain what I felt during those horrible days. History will tell you it was really only about 18 days of war. My heart will tell you it felt so much longer. On the last day before my son’s bar mitzvah, I got the call from Elie that they were releasing him and he could come home. I grabbed some food, my phone and the car keys and went driving down there, trying to drive slowly enough that I wouldn’t break any laws, desperate to see him.

Most of the last few minutes were a blur to me. I remember taking a wrong turn and wanting to cry. I remember seeing him for the first time in weeks and thanking God for this most precious of gifts – a son safe and coming home. One of the first things Elie said to me on the ride home still rings in my ears.

“Ima,” he said, “they didn’t let us finish.”

No, Elie and the other soldiers knew that their work was not done; that Gaza would fire more rockets. There were political reasons for stopping the war, not military ones. Barack Hussein Obama was coming into office and Israel was told to pull itself into order. I didn’t hear Obama condemn the rocket attacks yesterday. I didn’t hear Obama condemn them today.

Maybe he too is waiting for a child to die. Maybe only when our blood flows in the streets will our government understand that what wasn’t finished two years ago, has come back to haunt us again. For one year after a soldier finishes his mandatory service, he is not called to the Reserves. The catch is that the army does call them that first year and the soldier has the choice of going or not (unless there is a war). Elie’s year ends in a bit over two months.

I can’t let myself think of another war yet. But five rockets in two days. The world has to understand –  unless they demand that Hamas stops, this will again be the build up before the action; the question before Israel’s strong answer. And this time, this time maybe we will finish what should have been done two years ago.

4 Comments on Rockets are Falling Again

  1. Well said (as usual!) I would love to hear that a version of this post was submitted to the NY Times as an op-ed piece…


  2. Paula, I feel your pain, your anguish, your disbelief in the system where retaliation should be automatic, but does not occur. I too want to scream every time I read this kind of news, and I cry for every child, every soldier, every Israeli that is killed by one of these rockets. It is an outrage, pure and simple. I can only imagine your joy upon seeing your son after those “18 days of war”…I worry about my son walking the streets of DC on a daily basis, and I am embarrassed to admit that. I’d be a basket case if he were in the army, but like you, I would be so proud. Give those beautiful children of yours BIG HUGS from a Jewish mother in Texas!!! Stay safe, and well. Jan

  3. Well written, Paula, as usual. Unfortunately, I was unaware that Israel was being attacked again. I suppose it’s because I’ve been busy and our liberal media is far too fixated with the liberal Congresswoman being shot by a mentally ill young man to be bothered reporting what happens in the Holy Land. The idiots here seem to be debating whether the Glock made him shoot her, or if Sarah Palin was to blame… morons.

    Perhaps it is time to let Israel finish what the cowardly Arabs have started…

    Be safe and healthy, Paula.


  4. Well, I feel sorry for you, but sooner or later, I think, the IDF will try it again against hesbolah, and cross my finger, that IDF will win!

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