Glad — and sad — that my kids are overseas

The last couple of days before their flight to America this week were excruciating. Even if I’m not too scared for myself of another Iranian attack, I desperately wanted my kids — age 8 and four-and-a-half — to be spared that experience again of being woken up from their sleep to go rushing down to the basement bomb shelter for hours. My wife and I were even worried the big attack might come when they were in the cab on the way to the airport. And, so, I was relieved when their El Al flight took off from Tel Aviv and landed safely in the States for their three-week vacation before school starts again.

But I was also sad — especially when my wife sent me pics of the kids at the wonderful science museum in Boston. I really would have loved to share in their wonder that can be inspired in that place. I love this country so much and am so glad to be raising my kids here. And I’m glad that we’ve become a modern, industrialized country in recent decades with so many of the things that modern, industrialized countries have. But we have nothing like that science museum or like the Bronx Zoo or the Metropolitan Museum of Art or the Air and Space Museum in Washington. These were places of wonder for me as a kid, and I wish I could share them with my children.

But I can’t. Because I am sick.

Three years ago now I started on dialysis. I worked hard to find a dialysis method that would allow me to still be active in my children’s lives. And I found it — peritoneal dialysis (PD). While it’s challenging, it’s helped me succeed at my goal of being a full participant in my kids’ lives despite the disability that is kidney failure. Just last month I went on a vacation with them by the Dead Sea for almost a week — getting to splash around with them in the pool for a bit.

But while it is possible to take PD, and all the supplies it requires, on the road, traveling overseas is much more complicated. And one of the costs of living in a small, isolated country is that the only way to get other places — and all the wonderful attractions they offer — is to fly. 

I’m grateful that El Al has retained its commitment to flying people to and from Israel despite the war, and that my children are having the summertime opportunity to enjoy things that we don’t have here. I want them to be able to still “just be kids” despite the terrible war that they are most definitely aware of.

And I will be grateful when — with the help of The Blessed Holy One — they return and I can be a full part of their lives again.