Doorways

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Either you will 

go through this door

or you will not go through.

If you go through

there is always the risk 

of remembering your name.

Things look at you doubly

and you must look back

and let them happen.

If you do not go through

it is possible

to live worthily

to maintain your attitudes

to hold your position

to die bravely.

but much will blind you,

much will evade you,

at what cost who knows?

The door itself

makes no promises.

It is only a door.

Beautiful poem, right? It's at the very beginning of the Mishkan Tefillah--the new prayerbook put out by the URJ. In my 4 month angst last spring that brought me here, I used to think alot about doors and hallways, and where would this lead. It is so ironic to see this poem here, at the first tefillah. And now someone read it aloud, at the very last student-lead tefillah last week. Somehow with teary and emotional goodbyes we got through the processing of the last week of school, finals week, turning in final projects, concerts, and also knowing that some of these hugs goodbye may be for a very long time, as we are dispersing to 3 different campuses.

My feelings about leaving Israel are so complicated. On the one hand, ready to move to the next step, as is Ben and Phillip; yet on the other, we are now really part of society here--mainly because of our having kids in the school system. Every time I go to Coby's gan, I leave crying because the teachers are so fantastic. Now Mayan, the head teacher is pregnant, and I watch her baby grow every day and wish I could be here to help her. And when I arrange a final day with Hadas, Ben's teacher, I leave with the same lump in my throat. Now Ben can't spell in Hebrew or English, but he can speak in both, and I really hope some of the family friends we've made at his school continue.

These next 2 weeks will fly by. We're making more and more arrangements for our return, Phillip is scheduling interviews, people are starting to make concrete plans with us. It's all very strange. I wonder how many more times I'll look out the living room window here at dusk and see the blue and white lights of the knesset glowing.