As I write today’s column, I am sitting on an airplane returning home to Israel after 10 days in the United States.
The flights we had scheduled to see our children last August were canceled after my husband’s death, and then, with the timing delayed, I needed to apply for a new passport. As a result, this trip was the first time in almost two years that I was leaving the country, something I never find easy to do.
This trip, too, was also the first time I was flying alone in more than 20 years. A lot has changed since then, both for me and in the world of air travel.
Twenty years ago I spent one week a month for four consecutive months flying on connecting flights, almost 24 hours door-to-door, visiting my dad, who had been diagnosed with cancer. Given this, I was very fortunate to be by his side when he died.
I smile now as I think back to the one flight I took alone, as my husband and I crossed paths in the air. He surprisingly upgraded me to business class with his frequent flyer points. Feeling like Cinderella stepping out for the evening, I sat in my seat on the plane for the first 20 minutes trying to ascertain where the television screen was and how to access it. The last thing I wanted to do was to ask the flight attendant and show my ignorance, revealing that I had absolutely no idea where it could possibly be.
With chairs in business class selectively placed in “pods” offering the utmost of privacy so that you couldn’t see your neighbor (or their televisions), I reminded myself that at best on an airplane I usually spent 12 hours watching the silly airplane work its way across the screen to its destination. I remember, too, not knowing where the table was hidden, but when my meal arrived, Gloria, the doting flight attendant, pressed a button and the table appeared. Promptly placing the plastic cutlery on the starched white linen tablecloth, I was served my packaged kosher meal.
So now, 20 years later, I was once again flying solo but this time in a paperless world of computers and devoid of much human contact.
I had so much to do, leading up to the week I was flying. Updating my passport, booking flights on the right day and time, purchasing insurance and American money, booking ground transportation, finding the suitcase deep in the storeroom, and a myriad of other tasks were more time-consuming than I had anticipated. While channeling my husband with greater appreciation for all that he did, I wished that he had left behind detailed notes, so I knew what I had forgotten.
With no one telling me that I had packed too much, and with no one arranging all the logistics leading up to and while traveling, this trip was, for the first time in many decades, entirely in my hands.
With no shortage of firsts and a little apprehension, I decided that I would treat this journey as a challenge, an opportunity to stay focused on the here and now (not the what-ifs, as I tell my clients), and take it one step at a time.
As the queen of list makers and believing in breaking tasks into small manageable components, I checked off in my mind getting to the airport, getting onto the plane, getting off the plane, and finally making it to my destination.
The little girl in me felt empowered as I acknowledged in my second Cinderella moment that I could and did do it. This time, I lightened my load, both literally and figuratively.
Trip was to help granddaughter
The purpose of my trip was, in theory, to help with my two-week-old granddaughter, her two sisters with vacations in between school and day camp, and to give their exhausted parents a break. I had few expectations, with no plans to run around but, rather, to enjoy this opportunity to have special time together, after a very difficult year.
Having lived in Israel for more than a quarter of a century, I still miss my Sundays. I now was going to have two. With two consecutive days without work, one can slow down, relax, and spend time with loved ones. Very much underrated, it is essential for our emotional and physical well-being.
Imagine having a greater sense of calm, reducing our road rage, lowering our anger and frustration, enabling us to be more productive the rest of the week, all while enjoying time to “just be” and see loved ones or travel throughout Israel.
This is a gift worth fighting for. For those who think that having Friday off is the same as a Sunday, it is not.
This trip also highlighted for me the importance of family in our lives. With limited in-person visits due to COVID, the wars, and distance, despite the seven-hour time difference, we try to talk at least a few times a week, along with frequent messaging.
I wonder whether those who, sadly, are barely on speaking terms know what they’re missing. I think not.
Frequently, over the years, I have worked with dyads and families who have not gotten along – be they a parent and child, two siblings, or even a spousal unit.
For those who barely speak to each other, I push to see whether they have truly tried their hardest to work on repairing their relationship.
As you think about your own relationships, ask yourself: If you are angry with someone, how long do you want to be angry – a few hours, a day, a week, a month, more? What do you need in order to put the past behind you and move on? Life is short, and today you can choose to make peace and amends before it is too late. Don’t miss the opportunity.
Watching the dynamics in the family with a newborn is fascinating. I see in the two-parent family both exhaustion and cooperation, and the incredible give-and-take that comes with good communication. It is not easy. How does each person in any relationship make a donation to the “goodwill bank” when, with all that they have gone through, it may feel empty?
Finally, as I headed home and we began our descent in the very early morning hours, I asked myself, what are five things that I am grateful for that happened in the past 24 hours?
In no particular order:
I am grateful for a mostly “staycation” where I got to truly enjoy my kids and kiddies without museums, socializing, or the pressures of running around.
I am grateful for the true miracle of life – the most beautiful little hands and toes in the world, the gassy smiles, the moments of sleep – even if they come at the wrong time, and the oxytocin rush of just holding a newborn.
I am grateful for nature’s beauty at my doorstep. The not too hot days, the gigantic trees, the fresh air and the sights of people enjoying quality time together outdoors.
I am grateful to be able to hear the news, but for a change often not in real time. I had a chance to recharge my battery. My heart breaks with the news of each soldier’s death, but being at a distance, and not hearing sirens and airplanes, allows for a brief opportunity to begin to calm the body.
I appreciate the many signs around the neighborhood saying, “We stand with Israel” and the display of Israeli flags in so many windows.
But most of all, as we began our descent, I felt ever so grateful to be heading back home, because for me, there is just no place like Israel.
The writer is a licensed clinical psychologist in private practice in Ra’anana and coauthor of The Jewish Journey through Loss: From Death to Healing (Koren Publishers). She has written about psychology in The Jerusalem Post since 2000 and specializes in trauma, loss, grief, and bereavement.
batyaludman@gmail.com; drbatyaludman.com
