Thoughts while we wait for the drones to strike

It’s begun.

Iran has launched an unprecedented attack and the drones are on their way.

My heart stammers and my face is hot and wet with tears.

My instinct is to run as we always do when there are rockets from Gaza, but then I remember:

The thing about drones is they give us plenty of notice. It’s quite polite when you think about it. They give us 8, 9 hours heads-up to make jokes about the whole thing, and then weep, and make more jokes if we have it in us, and maybe throw up… and then weep again. And hey, write a blog post!

Oh joy, I have time — can brush my teeth, put on my cute jammies, … drink a little Shlook of whisky… make a bottle for my sleeping toddler, practice some witty repartee to use on the neighbors when the sirens go off and we meet in the stairwell in my cute Jammies… I may even have time to learn some basic Farsi..

Plenty of time.
Small blessings.
Plenty of time.

The baby stirs.

‘Ufros Aleinu Sukkat Shlomecha ופרש עלינו סכת שלומך — Spread over us Your shelter of peace’

I sing in a whisper.

Time stands still.

Everything stops except the wind – insistent and howling – and I think of Egypt long ago when we were slaves, and I wonder if this is how it felt for the Egyptians when the tenth plague descended like a slow planet colliding into ours, and I wonder if there’s enough time left to write down all the wonderful things I still love about this world, but mostly, I wonder if there’s a mother in Iran who is up with her baby in the middle of the night right now and looking West this very moment and wondering if there’s a mother in Israel up with HER baby looking East.