One Door Closes

The door of 19 Pine road locks with keys inside. That's the moment it hit us. The magnitude of our decision and changes ahead. It was the strangest feeling to drive away. I realize what an exchange of stability we've created. But in time, hope we find our new normal. 

As my mind wandered at Cafe Eilat with several bathroom trips (sorry, yes, but didn't need the medication I was given!), I was so thankful that two of my sisters drove up for the day. Not only did we really end up needing three cars for our luggage, but their encouragement, hugs and smiles reinforced the feeling of pride, ideals of the Jewish nation and that all will be ok. They didn't cry, upon my request, and hugged me as tears streamed as I continued to process the pros and cons. 

Saying goodbye was definitely hard. But the emotion is very different, especially when you know there's support.

I don't know where I'd be without my sisters. "Pave the way, find a job for us and let us know the ins and outs" one says. The other "Tamar, you're living the dream. You're doing it." Hearing that meant everything, especially in that not here but not yet there point where you begin to doubt yourself. And yes, you'll see in pictures our happy faces, but it's important to share those raw moments.

What if we we are making the worst mistake of our life?

Completely alert, we walk through security as a family. Once getting through, we felt calmer.

A thank you to Josh's father who had a great go with the flow attitude, cookies made by Josh's mother (eating one now, 4:45 am USA time), Rube and Sarah who understood my dislike of travel and picked up some goodies.

And to Josh, who invested his heart and soul into this move. Hope all those papers are well worth it!

After I yelled at the baggage check clerk that didn't understand what aliyah meant, refusing to accept our bags, I said "listen, we are moving. You are taking everything." A back up agent came and said "oh, you're doing that aliyah thing." The clerk asks me not to yell and I tell her she had to be to understand us!

Yep, that aliyah thing.

I share this story with a close friend back in Sharon who replied "Simple explanation: they thought you were an American, then you started yelling at them and they realized ohhhhh she's Israeli!!!! Hahaha."

So true.

The process went a bit smoother after that  and we suddenly heard "hey Simcha!" followed by a high five. It was our son's Hebrew teachers son who remembered us. Seeing a familiar face meant everything. We met him again right as we boarded the flight.

Of all the children, our son didn't cry at all. Giddy and happy, he was thrilled by the adventure. This was a complete surprise to us as he was always Parve about the idea with his thumb neither up or down. The baby (finally) took well to a pacifier as we waited for take off. And our daughter shrieked as she saw the plane approach. There was a delay due to some part needing to be replaced (always a joy to hear).

The children slept on the flight but we woke them up early to help adjust to the time zones.  We learned we need noise canceling head phones. Badly.

But we smile, fist bump each other as I look at the baby buckled up, and I tell him "Yaakov look, we are going coach not cargo."

Thank goodness.

Side tips:

1) Put more clothing and shoes on the lift.
2) Keep more toys. The hardest part these past three weeks was not having our swingset and Legos.
3) Buy milk before boarding if you bring your own cereal. They are a little stingy with it to keep for coffee.
4) Invest in duffles. We had a hard time with three carts of luggage and a stroller.

We will arrive in Israel is less than three hours.

More to come on the other side.