I just got off the phone with my brother, who has the great merit of living in Israel. He recently moved to an apartment from the porch of which, he says, he can see my apartment. Since he lives in the same neighborhood as our apartment, I can visualize everything he describes: where he was shopping earlier today, where the Lag B’Omer festivities will happen motzei Shabbat, where the dog I hear yapping over the phone lives. Everything is clear in my mind.
Earlier today, my husband and I listened to a woman from our community report about spending Pesach in Israel. Where she stayed, what tours she took, the feeling that she had while there. And every bit of what she said was so REAL to me. I could picture exactly where the apartment was because I have a nodding familiarity with that section of Jerusalem. We took most of the tours she described, even with the same touring company. Everything felt familiar.
Earlier in the week, a friend sent me an email invitation to a weekly Torah class, along with a note that said, “When you’re living here, we’ll go to these kinds of things together.”
Sunday, we are headed to New York City for the Salute To Israel Parade and Israel Day concert. While there, surrounded by thousands of other people waving blue and white flags, wearing pro-Israel t-shirts and eating felafel, it will be easy to imagine that I am actually in Israel.I spend so much time in Israel in my head that it sometimes shocks me when I open my eyes, look around, and see America.