My new identity

I am now officially a soldier’s Mom. This morning we handed DB over to the Israeli Defense Force, with a hug and a few tears.

The traffic into Jerusalem was a little crazy, which did not help to lessen our anxiety. We were to drop DB off at Ammunition Hill, a very historic and symbolic place militarily. (But don’t ask me about it. I am not the history person, remember?) We were not exactly sure where to go and were even wondering if we had missed the bus, as we were 30 minutes late and there were very few people around. So we followed DB, as he gotten himself this far, I knew he’d figure out where to go. We entered a building that seemed to be the place. He gave his name and ID number and was told to wait until they called his name.

There were families leaving as we were entering; mothers and children in tears. Large groups of people. “Should we have brought the family,” I thought? Their boys looked like mine. And they seemed to be in the same pain I was.

We waited. Ari gave DB a few more words of encouragement. They called his name over a loud speaker. It was a little eery. It was literally as if he was being “called up.” I gave him a hard hug – with all the love I could muster (tears fill my eyes once more as I write this) – Told him once again how proud I was of him. He answered, “I love you too Imma, I’ll be home for Shabbat.” DB hugged his father and approached the table where two female soldiers were sitting in front of a doorway leading outside. They asked for his Israeli ID card, checked off something on a list and wished him “Hatzlacha” (good luck). Before he walked through the doorway to wherever it was they were taking him, the young chayalet (female soldier) handed DB a lollipop. I’m not kidding. On the table next to all her official papers was a bag of kosher lollipops. She handed one to DB, which he took with a smile.

“That’s it,” I thought, I just sent my son off to the Israeli army with a lollipop! There is something ridiculously funny about that!

I cried. I know I’ll see him again in a few days. But the meaning behind what Ari and I had just done hit me. I had given my son over to the country we believe and live in, in order for him to learn how to and eventually participate in keeping us safe. It was profound, surreal and frightening all wrapped up in one.

From there I took myself to the Kotel. My next appointment wasn’t until 11 o’clock, so I knew I had time. Being at the Holy Western Wall calmed me. I talked to G-d, asking him to watch over all our children, even the ones I didn’t give birth to…

Follow Up: It is 11:00 PM, Dov has just called, and reports that he is in Arad at the basic training base. He was finger-printed, received his uniform and whatever else they do. Couldn’t talk, but would be in touch when he could. I feel better now!