"Mom, I'm going with dad to check out the Katyusha, wanna come?" I ask my mother in this weirdest of questions.
Mom looks up from her book, confused. "What?"
"We're going to take pictures of the Katusha," I repeat. I want to ask her again if she wants to join us but I burst out laughing at this completely insane conversation. Mom joins me.
Dad is running over as my laughing turns to shrieking that could be interpreted either way. "What's wrong?" he asks alarmed.
In between my laughs (I'm already tearing), I manage to say, "I just asked mom if she wants to come see the rocket..."
Dad looks at me funny, making sure I'm indeed laughing.
We go out. The streets are empty as no one yet believes this quiet is for real. I'm not sure either, but I hope. Statesmen and politicians may not think it a good move to have a cease fire as of yet, but I have my own selfish reasons to want it, as I'm sure millions of Lebanese and Israelis feel the same.
Well, my hometown has been quite efficient. They've already disarmed the missile (remember it was a dud), hauled it away, covered the hole and patched it up. Nothing to see. Like it didn't happen.
But there are painful reminders of another rocket that fell nearby, and this one exploded. There was no siren before it fell. The wounded from that attack are still in the hospital. One was in critical condition and I want to find out what happened to him.
My parents and I decide to continue and have a little walk. Almost no one is walking. Only a few cars go by, their occupants look at us like we're crazy. Maybe we are.
On the way back we stop by the corner store and get an ice-cream each. The grocer tells us of the Katyusha we went to see. He was here and had seen it. The exact same story our neighbor had told us.
We continue to talk a bit with the grocer, no one else is in the store, then walk back home eating our ice-cream. Back in the war zone. A quiet day that no one trusts. War zone normalcy? Is there such a thing?
Categories: personal, Israel, Lebanon
5 comments:
Glad to hear you got a break, hopefully it will last. Glad you posted about your ice cream.
Glad you got to go for a walk and ice cream--do an everyday something without fearing sirens or blasts...this is all so disheartening. Stay safe, be well...prayers continue
"I'm sure millions of Lebanese and Israelis feel the same." And Americans! Thanks again for sharing your experience. I'll not eat ice cream again without being grateful for the chance.
What gets me is how unaware and unaffected we are in North America. I can't say if it's a good or bad thing, because it may be a survival technique. But, I drive to work, sip my coffee, hear about a suicide bombing in Iraq, take another sip of my coffee. People are dying in Africa, repressed in Cuba, and, hey, there's a housing project across the street from where I work. I take another sip of my coffee. There's a gang-related killing in the west end, a child missing in Vancouver...
All this news has a new effect on me now, Melly. And, it's because of your posts. For me, you've brought the element of humanity back into the equation of war/news.
I do my bit by giving to certain charities, volunteering at my local United Way, giving a few bucks to a homeless person. But, there has to be more. There is much wealth and strength in the world too - so there really is no need or excuse for any suffering.
Edie, Anon, thank you.
Nienke, I just emailed you such a long rambling letter and now I realize it was partly in response to this wonderful comment of yours.
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