Reflections on July 1st: Our Aliyah Anniversary

Our family has marked the anniversary of our Aliyah every year since 1993—July 1st. But for some reason, this year the day quietly passed us by.

We made Aliyah 32 years ago, along with dear friends from Boston. When we first shared our plans, those friends decided to join us. The Boston Shaliach at the time was far from encouraging. He repeatedly questioned why we would choose to leave such a wonderful community, our friends, and our family. But leave we did, on June 30th, 1993.

Together, our two families—four adults and nine boys ranging in age from 2 to 14—landed with 70 duffle bags, a computer, a TV, and a microwave. Over the years, each family added a sabra: our fifth son, and their daughter. Our bond has remained strong. Our children went to school together, served in the army, married, and together they’ve brought over 30 grandchildren into the world.

We continued to mark July 1st each year—our own personal Yom Ha’atzmaut.

So how is it that this year, we let the day slip by?

Because the day our son was wounded in Lebanon changed our lives forever. There is now life before, and life after. The past six months have brought new challenges, and a new kinship—one I never imagined—with a group I’ve come to know intimately: Mothers of Wounded Soldiers. One person told us, “Now you are Israeli.” It was as if our lives before didn’t quite count—like this was the rite of passage we had been missing.

But my message is this: I refuse to accept that trauma is the benchmark for belonging. This country was built by olim from all over the world. Our commitment, our sacrifices, and our stories are no less meaningful simply because they didn’t begin with war.

As I look back, I know that our journey—filled with love, strength, and hope—deserves to be remembered, even if this year July 1st quietly passed us by. Making Aliyah wasn’t just a move; it was a choice to build a life in Israel and be part of its story. While recent events have changed our lives in deep and painful ways, they don’t change who we are. We were Israeli the day we arrived. And even though the road has been hard, our connection to this land has only grown stronger. Next year, we’ll mark July 1st again—not just as a date, but as a reminder of where we started, how far we’ve come, and the deep love we have for this country and for each other.