You promised a dove

This post was uploaded in 2011

And still... so relevant and moving

"And we will remember them all"....

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May, 2011, the eve of Memorial Day for the Fallen Soldiers of Israel, I traveled with my eldest son, Noam (6.5), to attend the ceremony in Lehavim because my niece performed as a soloist with a group of three violinists and a keyboardist.

The ceremony was emotional, sad, and very dignified, but what left the greatest impression on me was my child.

This child, who is just beginning to grasp (if at all) the concept of fallen soldiers and that people die, whether in wars or other circumstances, this child who plays Beyblade battles with his friends, sat at the ceremony fully focused and very serious, listening intently to every word spoken and every memory shared about the fallen of Lehavim. He said to me: "Mom, look, the flag is at half-mast," and then added: "Mom, they said to bow your head. So bow your head..." and bowed his own head with full seriousness. After a minute, he said: "Mom, that's it..."

And this child, who just before the ceremony began, said: "Mom, they will sing Hatikvah, right? At every ceremony, they sing Hatikvah, so they must, right?"

And this child stood at the end of the ceremony, upright and proud, singing all the words of Hatikvah, filling my heart with pride!!

This child, who at the end of the ceremony, as we were leaving, said to me: "Mom, the bereaved families must miss their children so much..." and in the same breath added: "Mom, tomorrow I will tell the whole class that I saw a real wreath (circle)...."

The innocence and wisdom intertwined in one 6.5-year-old child, a first-grader, who left with impressions and felt so grown-up and behaved maturely throughout the ceremony (even though we were freezing cold...).

He is my child!!!

This child, who since Memorial Day was mentioned at school, hasn’t stopped asking questions about what it will be like when he is in the army. He asks his father about his military service, what it was like to parachute from a plane, which unit he served in, and more questions I never thought of and certainly didn’t want my child to ask at the age of 6.5.

And you can’t not answer... he is thirsty for information...

And as if to annoy, or move, or remind me,

On the way back home, the song "Winter 73" played.

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We are the children of the winter of seventy-three

You dreamed of us for the first time at dawn, at the end of the battles

You were tired men who thanked their good fortune

You were young worried women who wanted so much to love

And when you conceived us with love in the winter of seventy-three

You wanted to fill with your bodies what the war had taken away.

When we were born, the land was wounded and sad

You looked at us, hugged us, tried to find solace