CHANGES

Last night, at my writing class, was probably the last time I’m going to see my friend John for awhile. He’s leaving Jerusalem for Tel Aviv for many reasons…both personal and professional. And although we don’t see each other a lot, I really hate the fact that he’s going to be far away.

Well, if you call Tel Aviv far away. Here in Israel, no place is far away unless you’re talking about Hutz L’Aretz (out of the country…usually means America/Canada …usually means someplace that has a corned beef sandwich, a juicy steak, and if you’re very lucky an empty pineapple shell filled with something that will get you farshnikkered and topped off with a little umbrella.)

Where was I?

Oh, yes, John.

And on top of that, the girl who really runs the office at work, left this week. She met a nice fellow from Belgium. Trust me…a very nice fellow from Belgium. And he invited her to join his family there for yontiff. I hope they walk hand in hand into the sunset and smile forever.

But what about me? No, not the sunset thing. I did that years ago and besides, these days I take a taxi.

I mean, here I am with the empty room syndrome once again. You know what I’m talking about. All of a sudden the kids go to college and you walk from room to room remembering when they started walking.

About five and a half years ago we went from a house of five to a house of two! All in two months. Our oldest son decided to get married….yahooooooooo! Two weeks before the wedding our daughter moved into her own flat…ok ok yahooooooooooo! And a month or so after that our youngest went into the army…tfu tfu tfu and a little yahoooo!

That was when I realized that I was a ‘nester’. I build my nest and nurture it and take care of the little chickadees inside and know every nook and cranny of my little place called home. Even in hard times, and there were and sometimes still are, it’s still my nest and I reach out my arms as wide as I can make them and try as hard as I can to hold it together. It’s my nest.

I don’t think I was born a nester. I think it happened when I moved to Israel. ‘Soon I’ll be a stranger in a strange new place…looking for an old familiar face.’ Since then I really hate changes.

But change happens and doesn’t ask your permission. Some of the changes in my life have been amazingly wonderful. But they’re kinda like a surprise. Until you open the package and examine the contents thoroughly, you don’t know if it’s good or bad.

I’m happy for John and the girl from my office. And we’ll stay in touch.

And maybe it’s time for a few changes.

‘Oh Anatevka…’

Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.