Watch Out What You Say…Oh Well..

It’s a recurring thought I have – that there are mothers here in Israel and around the world with sons on active duty…and I’m not one of them. For the last three weeks, Elie has been in the Reserves. But this time around, it was all about preparation for war; exercising and training. As far as I know, he didn’t come into contact with our enemies; he didn’t man a checkpoint.

Other than these Reserve duty stints, my sons are home with their wives…except for Davidi. David. I have to stop calling him by the name I used as he grew up. It’s a little boy’s name; and he’s not little anymore. Yesterday, Lauren came home after visiting the States; Elie came back from miluim (Reserves). As we were driving home, I made some comment – I don’t remember what it was exactly.

It was something about running out of things to say on the blog – of writing more about politics than family. I don’t feel comfortable writing too much about what is happening in their lives. This is my blog, but that doesn’t give me the right to expose their lives, feelings, etc. So I walk a fine line, writing about what comes to my mind and wondering if it belongs here on this blog or on another.

Be careful what you say…

This morning, as we were preparing for Shabbat, Elie and Lauren went together to the shuk (open air market in Jerusalem). The prices there are a fraction of what they are in the stores. It’s so good to see them together again – they truly are two halves of each other. They picked up some vegetables for me and stopped to drop them off. They also brought the mail. Tzav Rishon…and David’s name.

Davidi – 4 years old

For those of you who understand those first two words, you can imagine my thoughts. For those of you who don’t, they mean – First Command – or the first calling. It is the first time the army is issuing David a command. A command to appear on a certain day, to undergo testing and discussions. A command to begin thinking, acknowledging, accepting. My son, my baby, will be a soldier, as Shmulik did before, as Elie did before that.

Davidi – 8 years old

He’s 16 and a half years old. I’m so stupid sometimes. My eyes filled with tears when I saw the letter. I sat down and looked at it – and yes, they all laughed at me. I think Lauren is the only one who realized that I wasn’t joking. I think they were surprised. I think I surprised myself.

The army sent him papers he needs to take to the doctor; free bus passes for the day; and an appointment in January, 2013 – months and months away, on which day he is to present himself to the army. To walk into the Recruitment Officer…to be begin a path towards being a soldier.

I’m a soldier’s mother – and I don’t want to be another soldier’s mother. I do…I don’t. God, I can’t believe it came so soon. It wasn’t supposed to happen so soon. He’s not even 17 years old.

Elie and Davidi (11 years old)

David is completely calm about this – many of his friends have apparently received the Tzav Rishon as well. All I can think of is that damn roller coaster again. We had a great morning. The kids were all helping – Chaim is coming for Shabbat; his sister and her family are here and we’re having them for lunch. Amira and Haim and the baby are coming too.

Davidi – 13 years old

The roller coaster – high in the morning and the bottom just fell out. Silly, I know. Tzav Rishon. This isn’t really the beginning of David and the army. The first appointment is 6 months away, days before his 17th birthday. Why they send it out now…I don’t have a clue.

David – 15 years old

It’s ironic that it came the day after my comment. Truthfully, I have enough things I could write about. I don’t need this. I’m still trying to deal with the fact that he towers above us; that he isn’t my little boy anymore. Tzav Rishon…

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