There are moments in our life that are inscribed in our minds forever. Some good, others bad. Some mind-blowing and emotional, others loud and traumatic. We live our lives day in, day out, trying to make it to the weekend when our routine is broken for a day. We watch the local news, read the constant news flashes on our smartphones, scroll through our crowded Facebook feeds, talk about ״the situation” with friends and family and at night when we’re all alone, we cry. 

When morning hits we move forward, together with our families, and our communities, we celebrate the holidays with the utmost joy. We build a future for ourselves and more importantly for our children, and we do it with a passion and zest for life.

And then the moments come back. Sometimes in our dreams, sometimes in flashbacks and sometimes in the form of questions.
Like when my four year old asked me about the time when we were in the playground and war sirens sounded. I had to run for cover with 3 kids under 3 to a strangers home nearby. It happened over a year ago. And when he tried to describe the sound he first called it a fire engine, then a police car, then an alarm and finally a bad noise!  And a bad noise it was. It was long and loud and draining. It felt never ending, I can still hear it in my ears and 14 month later, I can still feel the fear. 

Later, I wondered why he remembered this now, at that very moment when we were sitting in the Sukkah having a holiday meal. Can he feel the tension of what is going on now? Can he see the stress and sadness in my eyes? Did he overhear me tell my mom I was so sad I didn’t have any strength to prepare for Sukkot? Can he understand the angry and heated political conversations at the dinner table? Did he catch me watching our backs nervously when shopping in a supermarket filled with Arab employees? 

It can happen anywhere and everywhere. There are numerous potential terror suspects and we need to be extremely aware and suspicious. 
This is our reality, and unfortunately our enemies will keep keep trying to break us year after year, holiday after holiday, summer after summer. 

All I can hope is that my children’s first memories will be good moments over bad moments.