Not knowing

The hardest part of this whole army thing is the not knowing.

I’m not referring to the usual not knowing – the “unknown” – that every person feels when they are beginning something new.

What I am feeling is the REAL not knowing. Like I have no idea what is going on – I don’t understand. Not only culturally. I understand that there is a certain amount of not knowing even an Israeli mom would experience. But she, at least, understands the basic process because her husband went through it, or her brothers, or even she went through the army. It’s part of their life from the day they are born.

My not knowing is about not understanding.
I do not understand what the process entails and/ or what happens next, and just simply, I don’t understand! I don’t understand the language. What are they saying to me, to each other? What am I supposed to do? Where do I go? How do I communicate with the people around him? Can I call his Rabbi who helped prepare him for this? I can’t, because I can’t speak his language. I need to be able to communicate, and I can’t.

Sunday night was DB’s Misibat Giyus. (draft party) The party where I had no idea what was going on. Not 100% true. I understood boys eating and laughing.

BOYS ARRIVE. They hug, they pat each other’s backs. They laugh. They speak to each other, they laugh.

The food comes out. They eat. They eat. They eat. Half way through the night, more boys arrive and there seems to be no more food. I run to the store and buy 40 more chicken wings and 15 hamburgers. They eat again. They laugh. One boy speaks, then another. Ari tries to speak in Hebrew. Switches to English. Most understand him. His message is meaningful: There’s not just physical strength. There is also Spiritual strength. You need the spiritual strength for when the physical strength runs out. The boys got it. They clapped.

DB speaks – only a few words: “The hardest part about going into the Army now is that I have to give up learning. You guys do not. So learn for me. Take it seriously and appreciate it, because I can’t.”
He spoke in Hebrew, I only understood some of it. I can’t even understand my son!

I couldn’t be a fly on the wall.

I only know they care about my son. I know they are mensches. They say thank you and goodbye before they leave. They even help clean up. But I can’t say more than “You’re welcome and Thank you for coming.”

It’s the not knowing that’s so hard!!