Two Years

I live outside of Israel, and my children are safe.

For two years, I have listened and watched and prayed and cried

For Hersh and for Ori and for Eli and for Alon and…

For the named and nameless who have given and lost so much.

I went to Israel, I went to Nova, I went to Re’im, and Oz

But it never feels real.

For 2 years, I have gone about my life, and sometimes, I forget for a moment.

I shop and work and watch TV and make meals, and sit with my friends and family

But I’m not the same.

I have heard the slogans over and over again

I have worked alongside the encampments

I have been afraid

I have wondered if I belong here.

And two years later

We debate, and we hope, and we try

To understand what has happened to us.

We felt safe

We felt sure

And now we don’t.

Some people try not to look, listen, or hear

Others are immersed in it, day after day after day.

I know

That everything is different now

The endless fear and learning and heartbreak and care and confusion

Will forever be a part of who I am now.

I live outside of Israel, and my children are safe

Yet I am not who I was before

6:27 on 10/7.