Morning words, in mourning.

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rage at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

(Dylan Thomas)

I stand every week at my networking meeting and talk about my skill with words but at this moment as another day starts to break over the sea which I can glimpse from my salon window, I feel inadequate beyond measure. The light of the yahrzeit candle for my mother-in-law, who died forty four years ago today, flickers and I think of all those families for whom tonight will have been a sad and sleepless one as each of them realises that the brave, caring, courageous young men who went out to defend their country will not be returning.

Rage against the unmitigated evil we are facing, an evil that is almost beyond measure, an evil that betrays a vision of inhumanity that I as a Jew, as a conscious sometime caring member of the human race, just cannot comprehend. We seek to build and they only seek to destroy.

 

Rage against the callous hostility of the world outside that either will not or cannot understand the realities of our situation, less and less as each day passes.

 

Rage against my fellow Jews, outside and even inside Israel, who equivocate and propose equivalence. Churchill once commented that ” we cannot be neutral between the fire engine and the fire”. We have tried time and time and time again to put out the fire that has been forced on us. Do they expect Sderot and Ashdod and Ashkelon to meekly sit and take the rockets because that’s all we’re fit for?  Do we sit back while a kibbutz is raided and it’s  members doubtless slaughtered or dragged away as very nearly happened two days ago?

 

But also rage that with all the many articulate and intelligent communicators we have in this land, the key messages just never never get across. We need an international Golani brigade of advocates, literally banging on the doors of every TV station in the world that will at least listen to us.

 

And also rage at the mavericks among our politicos and the columnists and the letter writers who were so gung-ho about letting the IDF do its thing as if a land invasion of Gaza was a Sunday afternoon stroll in the park. The roll of the dead should be forever on their consciences.

 

Now the light  of day from my window is clear if not yet bright. In due course I will do what the day demands. Say my Kaddish for Hannah (Annie) Marcus who knew just one of her five grandchildren and none of her many great grandchildren. Take Ruth her daughter for the last bout of her ghastly but necessary treatment. Perhaps be able to achieve something during the remains of the day.   Carrying on, after all, is our ultimate and greatest weapon.

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2 thoughts on “Morning words, in mourning.

  1. If carrying on is our greatest weapon then achieving something positive from that day or moment should be the ultimate reward to benefit us and others around us.

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