Yom HaZikaron, Memorial Day, was yesterday.
''What gets lost
Our glasses.
Our keys.
The umbrella that used to be in that closet.
6,000, in the Israeli War of Independence.
Our cellphones,
the phone charger,
the pacifier, and the small bear.
In 1963, one thousand lost, in just six days.
The dress watch.
The remote control.
Our place in the book.
2,500 lives in the Yom Kippur war (three times the per capita of the Vietnam War to the US.)
Some things are lost and then found.
Some are lost, and never recovered.
That pen.
And one blue striped sock, in the laundry.
Our feeling of belonging in the world.
They say 25,000 total lost in wars. Plus many more in intifadas.
Six million, of course.
We have not lost our resolve.
But our energy for battle?
Can one lose what one never really had?
And then 1,200 all at once, on October 7th.
And with those 1,200, our confidence in our army, and Anne Frank’s belief in the essential goodness of people.
And some of us have lost our faith.
(Though, ironically, we pray for its return.)
We lose weighty things:
The moment,
Our temper,
Our sense of self,
World support.
Even our sanity.
And hostages,
So many loved ones
gone astray,
With no trace.
Our national anthem, Hatikvah, says:
עוֹד לֹא אָבְדָה תִּקְוָתֵנוּ
“Our hope is not yet lost.”
We cling to this hope, but how long until we lose that, too?
May you have a meaningful Yom Hazikaron.
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