I don’t know about you but I thought this would be over already. As a matter of fact I didn’t think that Protective Edge would turn into the operation that it now is. I feel very much that this is the right thing for Israel to be doing at the moment. But my thoughts are turning more and more to worry for a very specific reason.
The hall is booked, the food tasting is over, the dress is ready and I have my suit. We’ve even been through the fun that is dealing with the rabbinate and have the ketubah. Friends and relatives have booked their plane tickets and are preparing to come and join me and my fiance for our special day.
But the conversations keep becoming more and more surreal. The other day my dad asked me if there was some kind of war insurance we could take out that would see us get some money back if we had to cancel the wedding. Today we spoke to the organizer from the wedding hall who told us that they don’t have a bomb shelter or any other kind of protection for guests. So in line with the instructions coming from the Home Front command his recommendation was that if we heard sirens during the event all of the guests would have to lie on the ground and put their hands over their heads. The image flashed through my mind of the sirens coming on while we’re under the chuppah. Of my 97 year old grandfather struggling to get down to the ground.
And then over and above these fears sits the guilt that at this time of national crisis I shouldn’t even be worrying about this stuff. That while our boys are fighting and dying in Gaza, while there is serious shelling being directed at our yishuvim, towns and cities my thoughts shouldn’t be on these unlikely fears. Let’s face it, the day is still 2 weeks away and by that time all of this will be over. Even if it isn’t the chances of any missile causing any damage at my wedding is so minuscule that it’s not even worth thinking about.
But I am thinking about it. A lot. We both are.
When Easyjet cancelled flights here I felt a twinge of panic that no one would even be able to come. A twinge of panic and then the pangs of guilt for worrying about it. I hope that I can celebrate my bachelour party with my friends (we already postponed it once), I hope missiles won’t be fired during the event. I hope my friends in Gaza come home safe.
I hope that by the time we get married this will have ended and all of the relief and all of the joy of knowing that it’s over can be released in a party where everyone can feel free to celebrate and let themselves go 100%, without feeling even a twinge of guilt.
I hope for these things but I am worried nonetheless. Yet I have no intention of allowing Hamas to take our wedding day from us.