After taking a shower, we collectively went to the chadar ochel for dinner, and to wrap up this relaxing and fantastic day we held Havdalah at the tel. We made our way up the tel, so increasingly steep and tall, and I was the first one to climb the roof of a building and than ascend the surrounding walls to make my way to the tallest most frontward point. Here, I watched the sunset with the rest of EIE. I couldn't tell you what a sunset in Jerusalem looks like, because it was so incredible. I never saw a sun set so fast and contain so many colours. What I believe to be so beautiful though, was we were facing Tzuba when watching the sunset. We saw our rooms, our hang out spots, our secret hang out spots no counselors are supposed to know about; we saw the orchards of the kibbutz, and the Arab village right by us; we saw the past four months, and our memories relive themselves by looking at Tzuba from a bird-eye's view; But, still, most beautiful of all, we saw our home and thats when it hit me. I was about to cross an ocean and return to autonomy at my school, and feel like there's no point in anything. Now, I have a goal, and a mission, and it's to get by my days with grace so that way soon enough, I'll come back home.
Now, following this incredible sunset, and a gorgious havdalah service, I came back form the Tel to finish up some things. Then, our counselors told us to meet in the notorious Belmont for an evening activity. They gave us strips of paper and pencils and they started throwing out topics. We wrote to all our friends and aquaintences in the group to tell them what we like and appreciate about them, and all that jazz. Never have I thought I had made such an impact on people. It was great to recieve some of these papers, but also, it was great to tell everyone I have been menang to tell how much I truly love and appreciate and admire them. Once done with this particular activity, our madrichiem decided it would be a nice scene change and brought us to the parking lot outside our rooms. Here they gave us a full sheet of paper and an envelope. We were to write things to ourselves and they'd be mailed to us in one year. Of course I thought hard about what I wanted to write, but I got it down on paper and sealed the envelope, only to be seen in one year, far form now. You think one scene change was enough? Nope, not for our counselors, and we followed them for a short while. They brought us to where we had poike one night, many nights ago, and here was a fire. We sat around it and told stories, and shared all the rules we broke, and they shared rules they broke while on EIE. It was another bonding moment. We talked about our first activity and why it was so amazing, and we talked some more about the group. If you want to here something extremely, well, haha self-proclaiming, our group Gadid was most definitely the best. We have the best madrichim, Gali, Inbal, and Yoav, and we have the best 39 kids. We all came so different and still today remain very unique, but all of us have bonded so strongly, and done so much together... I don't think any other group could say the same. Our counselors talked to us, had fun with us, yelled at us, made us feel better, and just was always there for us. I remember sitting around the circle imagining if I was in a different group. I thought about everything Yoav told me about his year, and what my brother, Josh, told me about his. What were their best friends' names? How about their counselors? I'm trying to imagine a different group from my own and I came to realize despite our many individual and collective flaws, our group was perfect. I couldn't have had any better friends, or roommates, or counselors. Despite everything, Gadid felt perfect at that moment.
Even after that, the day had not ended. I left a bit early, and me and Martine, my close friend of 8 years, and one of my closest of 2, walked around and talked all about our return to the states. We asked unanswerable questions, and answered with whimsical words which really eluded any meaning. We looked up at the sky, and eventually we got back to our rooms. it was once again close to 3am, and I walked into a room with the beds pushed together and my roommates, Lis, Becca, and Marisa laying down laughing, demanding I join. I hopped right in and we talked for another hour. We finally got to sleep and early 7:30 this morning our first alarm clock went off. Of course breakfast was 8 and I skipped it to sleep in, but I was ready and on time to go to Har Herzle.
We arrive there and while we visit Theodore Herzle's grave, I found the graves of other people who are my heroes. I think the most impacting one, which I was shocked to come across was tat of Channa Senesh. It was her I wrote my entry essay on. It is her I have admired and revered since my earliest Sunday school classes. It was her picture I coveted when dawning on the fact that soldiers were lost, and as a girl, I was never going to be held back in some house or kitchen, or even desk position. I saw her grave and that of her troops, who all perished on the Yugoslavia border, but relayed no information upon their execution after days of torture. I was so graciously blessed to visit my hero's grave. But, I don't think that was the most impacting moment, no it was not. You see, this cemetery is active and people are still being buried. We came to the spot of new graves. I saw the pictures and faces of the deceased and I even saw one form the unit I would like to be apart of. It was moving, and I got the overwhelming sense of loss. But then, as I started to recollect my memories of a boy, a teenager, and man I once knew, I thought I was really going to break down so I walked away and thought of other things. I approached Yoav, my madriech, and he looked at this one grave. It wasn't the look other people expected, but I recognized it. He looked as the grave of a black curly haired boy and I saw loss in his face. I asked him if he knew anyone who was buried here. I don't know if he said yes, or just nodded, but in that moment I saw his eyes, and the moment he put a rock on the grave of his fallen friend, I walked away, and I cried. I cried for my loss, I cried for the sadness in his eyes. I cried for the sacrifice of these men. I cried because I was sad. I cried because tomorrow I'll go back to the states, far far away from home, and I'll be faced with the following day of an empty seat at the lunch table I once sat at, a long time ago. I'll see John isn't there, and like these fallen soldier, the only thing keeping their memory alive is us. I don't want to be responsible for this. I don't think I can, but day by day, I'm seeing that life has to go on. These soldiers fought for my land, and I'll keep alive they're memory by repaying them with a few years (hopefully). I'll have to keep John alive by keeping his memory close to me, and sharing it when ever I think his words of wisdom could help. I left the cemetery, and then we went to the kotel. Ending sadness with joy.
Here at the Kotel, I met for the first time four months ago, and here, I am, the last time for a long while. I put many prayers in. Some for me, most for my family. Walking away, I glanced over my shoulder. I looked at the blue skies towing over the Kotel, and something told me, despite all my fears, everything will be alright. Everything will be just fine, and on leaving the old city, I feel like my time here is going to be soon once again, and back where I came from, everything will just be alright.
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