Pain

The terrible phone call came too suddenly. Life shattered into pain. One moment we were trying to wake our sleepy minds from the previous night of fun and in the next instance, space, emotions and time zoomed into a pinpoint of pain like a flash of white.
The family dinner stood hot and steaming on the table waiting to be eaten with relish but it had now been forgotten. All of us stood immobilized around the person hurting so much I wished the glasses and plates in the shelves behind me could shatter in sympathy, just as his soul was shattered in that moment. All my muscles tensed, adrenalin was pumping through my veins willing the limbs to do something to protect him from the unprotectable whilst the mind at the same time was anchoring my body, afraid of moving or touching - as if touch could cause more pain, like pouring salt into a raw wound.

One week ago exactly, the loved one received the phone call everyone dreads - that his best friend, who had been in hospital for the past six months didn’t have a long time left. I could only watch helplessly, recognizing the pain but unable to help. What should one say or do?

The best friend’s nickname can be translated to “he lives” and this morning he died. I only met him once, about one year ago at a huge party for over 100 people so unfortunately I didn’t get to know him personally. He was tall and very good looking; his face had a light in it that I can’t explain other than that it was beautiful. From stories I have heard, he was an amazing person and a wonderful friend.

I don’t know what to write, I don’t know how to comfort. I know that the pain the Drummer Boy feels now will never go away, but it will become bearable eventually. Hopefully he will create something out of that pain one day, for his friend who loved music.

Jaffa Harbour

Life in Israel

As always, I find myself in a bliss wishing that the outside world wouldn’t remind me of its existence.

However it has just been that special holiday when one thinks of others and I was very surprised to find that I missed the chaos and tension of the Xmas I so much love to hate. I missed the arguments with Dragon mum and the last minute Xmas shopping whilst the rest of Sweden watches cartoons on television. I missed starving all day and longing for the traditional Polish thirteen dishes for dinner even though it would mean killing that beautiful big fish we’d had swimming around in our bathtub the last few days. I missed getting horribly tangled up in tinsel whilst dressing the tree and I missed cursing my sister under my breath cause she gets away with not dressing it cause of her allergy. I missed opening presents and feigning happy surprise at the check I get from Dad and the pink underwear I get from Mum every year. And I missed apologising by phone to faraway friends and family because I am so bad at keeping in touch.

But life here in Israel is wonderful. The days start with being woken by the phone at 7.30 – it’s the smiling neighbour Iris, who takes me out walking for an hour. When I get back I put the boiler on for hot water and then snuggle up next to the loved one in bed. At elevenish I get up for a hot shower, grilled pita bread and coffee. I usually sit in the sun on the two tiny steps in front of the door of the little bungalow where we live with my breakfast watching the grove of silvery olive trees in front of the house and behind it the soft hills dotted with eucalyptus trees, here, there and everywhere a movement will reveal a white cow grazing.

Sitting there I hear Thai pop music, the houses on both sides of the bungalow belong to Thai immigrant workers and a few times a day ten of them crowded on a tractor drive by. They seem very sad, my Drummer Boy told me they stay in Israel for at least 4 years, the entire first year only pays for the working permit.

Some days Drummer Boy works from 6 in the morning but when he doesn’t I wake him a couple of hours after I get up. During the day not much happens, I study and listen to music being made on the keyboard and every couple of hours Iris’s husband Eyal comes by to play with the beloved. Eyal works at the school which is just across the road from us and whenever he has a break he will come over for a chat, coffee or just to jam. The best moments are when the two of them go crazy in the music room of the school, Drummer Boy on percussions and Eyal on piano. I could listen to them for ever, they are the best jamming sessions I’ve ever heard.

Then day unfortuanatly has to end and even though they end late for me it usually is even later for the loved one who can play till five in the morning. This is my life. This is bliss.