Top of the Mountain?

I’ve reached the top of the mountain, the place I’ve been dreaming of since last March.

I’m now one of the few people on this planet who is fully vaccinated–two hits of Pfizer in my veins. Yay!!!!

Despite chills,   a headache, a runny nose, even a touch of vertigo I’ve survived the dreaded post-second jab malaise.

And now?

I thought it would all be over. I thought my life would pick up where I left it in March, that I’d be running to the eye doctor, hairstylist,  eyebrow, and upper lip waxing professional, and that I’d be giving and receiving much-missed hugs and kisses .

None of that is happening because here in Israel we’re still in lockdown.

Everything is closed and socializing is illegal.

Our government has won the world’s admiration for a  stepped-up vaccination program but we’re not done yet.

In some ways, it seems like things are getting worse.

People are sick.

People are dying

Just this morning I learned about a former neighbor who succumbed to the disease, a vigorous man, a Torah scholar in his sixties.  His funeral will be broadcast today on ZOOM.

I also learned that a relatively young man the son of friends is in the ICU with COVID complications.

And what about those young pregnant women with husbands and small children and parents whose lives are hanging by a thread?

How could this be happening now?

We’ve got this vaccine?

We’ve vanquished this disease.

Isn’t this nightmare supposed to be over?

It’s not.

The media warns of new strains,  more, infectious ones.

In the US double masking, which sounds like double suffocation is becoming the new normal. and there is talk of a vaccine-resistant strain that could take us back to square one.

This is the kind of news that makes you want to crawl under a rock forever.

Outside the skies are grey. Rain is falling.

Even now,  G-d is sustaining creation, taking care of us in ways we don’t always understand.  And Shabbos is coming. This week we read Parshat Beshalach the Israelites crossing the Red Sea.  Pharoah and his armies running after them.

Things look bad then too.

Our ancestors got through it and so will we.

Let us pray for the sick, cry for the dead, and reach out to fellow suffering  humans

And let us never forget to hope

Better days are coming sooner than we think

Shabbat Shalom.

About the Author
Carol Ungar is a prize-winning author who writes from the Judean Hills.
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