Sitting at night in my own house, it’s our last night here before the military forces come to take us away from here tomorrow morning.
Sitting in my house trying to organize my thoughts.
Our house, where we’ve spent most of our lives as a family. Where two of our sweet daughters were born and which is filled with our memories, moments that are ours alone. The small, everyday things that only we know about this house are disappearing.
Photo: Meira Dolev
Nine houses and eight families in the heart of a vibrant, bustling town are going to be evacuated and destroyed tomorrow morning by a heartless tractor because of a fallacious legal-political campaign.
But the ones who will pay the price are not democracy or the law – we will. A mother, father and children, times eight. I won’t get into the political argument, but the fact is that this is what’s going to happen tomorrow morning – an event that everyone realizes is not at all cut and dry.
Photo: Atara Garman
Tonight, as we sat in our house, friends, acquaintances and good people came to encourage us and be with us. It was a busy, heartening night but at the same time, a night that didn’t leave us a moment alone to fully experience and internalize what was about to happen to us.
That moment hit us later, after some of the visitors had returned to their homes and others went to sleep on mattresses in various rooms of our house. And I – I remained awake with the thoughts and the fears about what was going to happen the next morning…
We left our family’s story written on the wall
Being evacuated from your house is not the same as moving. When you move, it’s usually by choice. In our case, we weren’t allowed a choice. The High Court of Justice decided that we must leave our house, even though we do not think that justice was served at all.
But we have no choice and we will get up and leave, after we say goodbye to our house, which was our fortress for eight long and happy years.
A house is simply four walls, but four walls that are our walls, that give us so much and express an infinite number of details and moments. Like the moment when I drink my morning coffee while the children are still sleeping and the house is silent, gazing out at the gorgeous sunrise peeking through the kitchen window every morning like clockwork.
Or that cozy moment when the whole family is together on the couch in the living room on a Friday night after the meal. An infinite number of moments that make up an entire life that is so hard to part with.
Saying goodbye to their home. Photo: Eliana Passentin
Nati takes down the mezuzahs. Photo: Eliana Passentin
With all of the pain and sorrow, throughout the entire ordeal, it was important for me to try to find the light – some dim light at the end of this dark tunnel. It’s a life lesson to try to see the good. To be happy with what we have, to be thankful for our health, to be happy about the sense of family togetherness that accompanies us as we try to move forward.
The memories and our story will always be a part of us, and what is keeping me going tonight and encouraging me is the knowledge that we will create new moments that will be ours to keep within four different walls.
Before I try to get a quick nap in, I pray and hope that we will merit to have some quiet and routine on a personal level, and peace and calm in this crazy country, on a national level.
May it happen speedily.
Link to video:
 The construction of one house was not yet completed, so the owners had not yet lived in it.