See You Again Real Soon
Now, from my airplane window, I watch the last glimpse of the Tel Aviv coastline fade into a blanket of clouds, white and soft like the foam on my morning cappuccino. My heart tightens, yet it is full of gratitude, full of love, and full of longing.
As the coastline disappears beneath the clouds, one treasured moment after another comes rushing back.
My park, with its tiny library tucked away in a quiet corner, will stay with me long after I’ve left.
Mamilla, too, lingers with me, its elegance found not in towering skyscrapers, but in graceful, open beauty.
In the city center, eclectic coffee shops gave us the best shakshuka and Israeli breakfast for two, shared slowly, as if time itself had paused just for us.
Geula on Friday mornings was something else entirely, the aroma of Shabbat perfuming the air and wrapping the streets in warmth and anticipation.
At Super Moshava on Emek Refaim, I gathered everything needed to prepare a Shabbos meal with all the trimmings, including my favorite Petit Castel and my husband’s sweet port wine, chosen with care and love.
Our children’s home in Ra’anana gave us precious moments with our grandson Eli, who now proudly serves in the Miluim, holding our hopes with him.
The Tel Aviv coastline offered its own kind of farewell, endless walks that carried us all the way to Yaffo, the sea holding our thoughts in its steady, endless rhythm.
Shuk HaCarmel and Shuk Machane Yehuda dazzled us with mountains of cherries and pomegranates, each stall bursting with color, life, and abundance.
At Kibbutz Cramim, we looked out over the Jerusalem hills, so close it felt as though we could almost reach out and touch them, as if the land itself were holding us gently in place.
And then there was the most difficult farewell of all: the Kotel, remnants of the Holy Temple, where our tears and prayers rose together, asking Hashem to heal the sick and watch over our family and friends with mercy.
On our final morning, standing on the balcony and quietly reciting the familiar words of Shacharit, I lingered long after the prayers had ended. I gazed at the ancient walls of Jerusalem and counted my blessings for these priceless weeks, our home, our country, and the joy of being surrounded by our children and grandchildren.
My beloved country, until we meet again.
