taylweaver: (Default)
Yesterday, three Israeli soldiers died in Lebanon.

One of them was American. His name was Michael Levin, and he was 21 years old.

He grew up in Pennsylvania and worked (and may have attended camp at) Camp Ramah in the Poconos.

He was also a Boger Nativ (an alumnus of the Nativ program, USY's year program in Israel). He went on Nativ the year before my youngest sister.

She's in college now. Had he not made Aliyah (moved to Israel), he would probably be in college now too. Instead, he was serving his compulsory time in the Israeli army.

Tomorrow or the day after, my father will be going to his funeral.

It's scary sometimes how things hit so close to home.

I don't think I knew him, so it doesn't affect me personally, but still... it's kind of strange.

It's Jewish Geography turned on its ear - everyone knows someone or knows someone who knows someone. My father's former boss lost his great nephew (as I mentioned before); one of my father's office staff lost her best friend's brother. One of my sister's group staff members was dealing with a very distraught boyfriend - he lost his chevruta partner (study partner).

On top of that, one of the members of the office staff is serving in the reserves, and the Israelis who are on the summer program staff keep getting called up - one from my sister's group had to go serve for a day or two before they let him return to his group. And then there are the families who hope and pray that their children will not get called upon next.

And tomorrow or the next day, my father will be attending a funeral of a fallen soldier.

It's strange - I feel like on the one hand, we lose few soldiers - three here, eight there - it could have been a hundred - and yet, every one of them belonged to a family and a network of friends. And so many of those few have networks that connect back to people I know.

Which makes every individual soldier who has died significant, so that it becomes harder to fall back on numbers and harder to say, "only" three.

Like I said, I did not know Michael Levin. I only know of him. I know people who knew him. But still, it has made me think.

Baruch Dayan Emet
taylweaver: (Default)
That's what I thought the van parked in Chinatown said. It's much more interesting than what the van actually said - "demolition and carting" - and it also shows how tired I was on Friday.

As for what I was doing in Chinatown in the first place - well, that is a happy thing - I finally got my last paycheck for the summer. Now, if only I could get my first paycheck for my current job... that would make me very happy.

In other news, I started wandering around to the new schools on my caseload. I was sitting in an office looking at documents in one of them when a person walked in and introduced herself as a speech teacher. She looked at me for a moment and said something along the lines of, "you look familiar, but you're in the wrong context. What's your name." I told her. Then she asked, "were you AN's roommate?" "Yes. How do you know her?" "I live with her now."

And did I mention that all three speech teachers in that particular school are Jewish? They showed me the one kosher place in the neighborhood - a falafel place, which also sells sushi. Does every single kosher place sell sushi now? It didn't quite match the other foods there - all very Israeli. Made me think of the article in the Times this week (last week?) in the dining section about how Chinese food gets mixed with all sorts of other cuisines - including Kosher. Of course, Sushi is Japanese, but never mind...

On a different note, it's strange enough when I realize people my age are married. Even stranger to meet someone around my age who is divorced.
taylweaver: (Default)
Old friends turn up in the most unexpected places - or maybe I should learn to expect it, considering how interconnected the circles I hang out in are - it's almost incestuous, in a way...

It was wonderful to see friends from summer camp - I went to see that one - and from high school - that, rather unexpected, and intriguing to listen to all of them plan for a week that is best described as a cross between a camping trip and a renaissance fair - unless someone else cares to describe it better.

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taylweaver

April 2012

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