Years ago, two sisters moved to Israel with their husbands and young children. As is the Sephardi custom, the oldest two boys were both named for their grandfather. One goes by his Hebrew name; one by his English name. Last night, I had the chance to see both boys, as wall as the grandfather for whom they were named.
When the families first moved to Israel, they each rented an apartment – one to my left; one to my right. Their children were adorable and very close…they still are, though the boys are now men; the girls graceful and beautiful like their mothers. The first year, the mothers worried about whether their children would learn to speak Hebrew. Over the months that they lived near me, as most immigrant children did, these kids learned to play in Hebrew, speak in Hebrew, shout in Hebrew, and eventually think and live in Hebrew until it was completely natural. They are, in every sense of the word, normal, typical Israeli children and last night, the first, the oldest, got married. Last night, I couldn’t stop looking at the two older boys, now men. So handsome, so strong, so tall. There is a tiny bit of the boys that they were, but really, they are so different, so sure of themselves.
Years ahead of these mothers, I went through my first experience with the army with my oldest son; the two sisters each watched as their sons were drafted…somehow it seemed harder watching them go through it than going through it myself. There are no real words of comfort you can offer a mother at that moment. You can share in the pride but the worry, the silent terror that lives in our hearts is for her alone to bear. Like my sons, both of the boys went into combat units and as my oldest was sent first into Operation Cast Lead and then Operation Pillar of Defense, these two were sent to war during Operation Protective Edge.
Two summers ago, as I waited to hear if my sons would be called up, I reached out to try to help one sister after she asked me if she would hear if there was bad news. I assured her she would and so at this moment, she should be calm. Get through this moment, this hour and worry about the next one later. Don’t think about tomorrow, don’t even try to guess when he will be home. Just get through this moment. That’s how it was with me. The minute I started to think beyond this narrow window, my eyes would fill with tears.
Don’t think, I told her and don’t let anyone make you feel bad. Do what you have to do to get through this. No one can tell you how to feel, what is right and what is wrong. What I didn’t realize until later was that I didn’t make enough of an effort to help the second sister. I love them both. I don’t know what happened. I heard the worry of the first and somehow focused on that. She asked me a question and from that point onwards, I just made it a point to check up on her and try to reassure her. Towards the end of the summer as the war was winding down, we were all invited to a wedding. The groom came home a few days before; other boys came straight to the wedding in uniform. As the boy who got married came straight from the battlefield, his mother sobbed and went running to him. She had been crying while waiting for the groom to come to his bride and it was then I realized that I hadn’t been there for her. We held each other and cried…it was all I could do. I watched her run to her son, and cried more…he looked so good…so healthy…so safe. One of the boys was wounded, his arm wrapped in a bandage…under the chupah, the wedding canopy as our nation was still at war, they said the blessing for the soldiers of Israel and there was barely a dry eye to be seen.
Now, two years later, some of the faces were the same. I watched my friend and her stand beside her son, I realized how successful they had been in their move to Israel. Her son is just out of the army. His bride is just beautiful and sweet and gracious. This boy who was now a man, stood tall and proud, surrounded by his army buddies, his family and community, and a beautiful young woman who had just become his wife.
It was a celebration not only for the wedding, but in a small way, for the fact that he was now post army, or at least as any soldier can be post-army until he finishes his reserve duty…years and years from now. There is something so amazing about a wedding attended by many young men who are soldiers. They dance with a joy that fills the room and the hearts of everyone there who watch them.
At my middle son’s wedding, he was first told that the entire unit would come. The head of the base had ordered all the boys to be released for the wedding, but then some operation came up and so my son was told that only half could come. The army sent the soldiers along with a commanding officer who was to make sure that the soldiers didn’t drink. Nothing. Not even the one beer or something I asked that they be allowed. They had come straight off a checkpoint and when the wedding was over, they would return there.
Midway through the wedding, there was suddenly a lot of noise and cheering. My son’s friends ran off the dance floor and there was a lot of hugging…the rest of the unit had been brought to the wedding. They pulled off their dusty combat vests, piled their guns under a table (where one boy remained to guard them). They took off the shirts of their uniforms in white t-shirts, all began dancing with a joy that you can’t imagine.
That joy was there at last night’s wedding. It was there as I watched the two sisters, two incredibly wonderful women and dressed as they were, in such beautiful gowns, they were simply stunning. It’s hard to believe that the two little boys are grown; that the two sisters are old enough to have children even close to getting married.
It rained enough during the outdoor reception before the ceremony that people moved inside but rain in Israel is seen as a blessing and so as the rain stopped, everyone moved back outside so that these two beautiful children of Israel could start their married life under the stars and the skies of this land.
I love weddings. Mostly, I like watching people dance, talk, socialize. I love watching the look on the groom’s face when he first sees his future wife; I love watching the mother as that moment comes when she realizes that her son is now another woman’s husband. He’s all grown up, and still her little boy. And that woman standing beside him as beautiful as you always hoped your son’s wife would be – inside and outside – that’s it, now she is his wife, forever his.
Last night, as I listened to the music at a place that has the most incredible view, I thought simply of all the blessings. The one that brought these sisters to be my next-door neighbors…but more…their families came from the same neighborhood as my husband’s family and so the father of the groom and my husband know each other for probably 40 years…definitely 40 years. And the rabbi who married us over thirty years ago, he was my husband’s rabbi back then…and he was at the wedding too, as was his wife, who has always had a smile for me and greeted me with so much warmth…and we got married in her dining room for the civil part of our married life.
Circles…of life, of love.
They danced in circles last night, around and around the bride and groom. These young adults who were children yesterday, how could they have grown so fast and now be married? If you want a recipe for a perfect wedding…it isn’t about the weather but about the people. The food was great, but it isn’t even about the food. It’s about a family… a boy who now has a wife; parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins and tons and tons of friends. There’s something wonderful about being at the wedding of two kids from the same neighborhood or city…
Through the rain and the wind, the message of last night’s wedding was that here was a young man who came from across the world to meet his future bride. Here are parents who relocated their young families to fulfill a dream. Here is a family that has come together to celebrate, to dance, to laugh. Here is a community that is celebrating the marriage of two of its children and finally, here is Israel, watching as the future takes shape.
It was many things – the blending of two families, the start to the life of a new couple, another milestone in their aliyah but above all else, it was, quite simply, an Israeli wedding.
