Friday, August 21, 2015

Dreaming of Home

There are a lot of definitions of "home" but home is really where the heart is, isn't it?  In all honesty, I'm writing because I have always wanted to spend the rest of my life in a place that feels like home. That place is so very far from where I am now...It's a physical place and it's Israel. I lived there years ago, and have always wanted to go back, always wanted to make it my home.  But life got in the way



Tonight..Friday, my husband and I were sitting, having  a drink together, talking about the future of this country where I was born. I told him that if Donald Trump, or anyone like him, is president, I want out. Yes, I do! I could not bear to live with a man or woman of that ideology in power.  To me, it would be oppressive and intolerable.  I told my husband we would have to leave and of course, he agreed. But  where would we go? Because he was born and raised in Briton, I thought  for sure he would say England. And I knew that England, in all it's glory, is somewhere I would never want to live, I could never call home.  But when he said Israel, a sort of light went on in my mind, in my heart.  It was like going into a room that had been closed for years, for decades.  A room that had been locked and shut off from my life, from my reality, from any possibility of it ever opening. But with one little sentence, the door swung open; it swung open wide and my mind began racing with possibilities.I asked him why and  when he replied, he told me quite simply that Israel is home.


Before I even knew my husband I had this deep desire to go to Israel and live...which I did. But I wanted to live there forever; or at least as long as I was alive. That's where I met him and  I thought for sure we would go back and build our lives there.  But alas, as life had it, we settled in the US and there our life began up until now.


Tonight I told my husband that if Trump, or anyone like him became president, that we would need to leave.  I meant it too. If someone like him were to be president , then I don't belong anymore.

Years ago, many years ago, I wanted to make my home in Israel. I was almost teary eyed when I got off of the plane about seven years ago when I returned for a visit. It felt like home.



Who knows what the future holds?  Would I leave the country where I was born to go and live there? Would I leave my children, and my children's children?...Yes I would. If you're alive, you're never too old to follow your dreams.