Happy families

Many people have commented that the blog has gradually taken on a negative tone over the recent months. It’s not the most surprising turn of events – life is difficult for both of us, while I’m in the army. While I’m on base, Deborah is home alone while I work endlessly with dozens of repetitive medical cases. Long hours, irritating lack of facilities and resources, ungrateful patients. When I come home, we endeavour to make the most of our time together, but that time is very short, and once I recover from the fatigue of a long period on base, it’s time to start getting stressed about the imminent return.

I’m writing this on a plane from Manchester to Tel Aviv. When the opportunity arose to take a week off while my soldiers were in the process of transferring between bases, I decided that I would seize the chance to see my family. No friends, no locum work to raise cash, just some quality family time, to break up the would-have-been 13 months between parental visits. Deborah has started work in Shaarei Tzedek Hospital now, which is great news in every way, except for the fact that it means she hasn’t been with me on this trip.

We’re coming up to the two year mark since we made aliyah; a good time to stop, take note of where we’re heading, and so assess if we are who we want to be, doing what we want. On paper, we’ve achieved all our dreams, including those we could only have hoped for: we both have the jobs we dreamed of, own a home in Jerusalem, have made great friends, speak the language, and can be proud of the fact that we took the plunge, came to Israel, and as the cliché goes, are helping to build Am Yisrael.

But something is missing.

With the exception of those people most inspired and motivated by faith in G-d, as time goes by, ideology fades. It’s difficult, for example, to ration my showers to a couple of minutes to save every drop of precious water in our arid land, when some Israeli-born soldiers are quite happy to wander off to answer a phone call, without turning off their shower first. It’s difficult to work 100 hours per week for a salary less than half that I would receive in the UK, when so many Israelis ask me for advice on how to get work permits abroad. And I’ll never come to terms with watching ultra-orthodox men drop litter on the streets of Jerusalem, the holiest place in the world for them, when I wouldn’t dream of dropping a piece of paper even in the slums of Manchester.

I can’t tell you what is missing from life – but something is affecting our fulfilment. Is it lack of purpose? I don’t think so – even here we can both confidently declare that our jobs give something to the country and the wider population. Is it financial security? No – we’d definitely be better off in the UK, but we aren’t struggling either. Is it gratitude? Perhaps in small part - now especially, during my army time, I dearly miss the simple ‘please’ and ‘thank-you’ of a happy patient.

One thing that is clearly missing – family.

We were under no illusions when we made aliyah. We knew we were leaving family behind; but for a greater good and a bigger picture – to create our own family here in Israel, so that future generations could grow up at home, with their families close by. Our own deprivation would be a small price to pay so that one day our children might grow up close by – even if our kids might not get to spend every weekend with their grandparents, at least we could spend time with our grandchildren one day! Plenty of other people have gone through the same thing... but sometimes the timing is better; they may move when the kids are already a little bit older. Perhaps they have family in Israel, or parents who can visit every month or two.

Whatever the reason, suddenly the distance between our parents and us has been profound. From babysitting to teenager advice, from moral support during labour to help deciding which school to send them off to, we have lost a very useful commodity! All that said, despite the tone of this email, Deborah is NOT up the duff; the plan still remains that we wait until my release from the army, and have a once-in-a-lifetime year trip before we start settling down and trying for sprogs. However, as our friends start to be fruitful and multiply, at home and in the UK, we’ve found yet another reason to appreciate good, loving and supportive parents. Despite the difficulties and frustrations of living in such a special place (no, not Liverpool), at the very least it gives us an appreciation of family that so many people just take for granted.

There are many questions and choices ahead. A lot to decide, and a lot at stake; do we stay in Israel, or come back to the UK? If we come back to the UK, how long for? But whatever our outcomes and wherever we end up, we will have tried our best.