Why We are making Aliyah (Article#1) 4/28/2006

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE 5 TOWNS JEWISH TIMES

“You’re making Aliyah? But…you’re not the type…”

In the last few weeks, as the news of our impending move has gotten out, my wife Goldie and I have heard that same comment over and over. The truth is, we have no idea what “the type” of person is who chooses to move to Israel. We only know who we are and what brought us to this point in our lives.

Looking back, we both came from families that are pro Aliyah. Our parents raised us both with an understanding of the kedusha of Eretz Yisroel and the zchus that people have in living there. We both spent our first year after high school learning there.

I have an older sister who went to Israel right after high school and essentially never came back, and a younger brother who made Aliyah almost 6 years ago; my youngest brother plans to make Aliyah in the next couple of years when he finishes his MBA. Goldie’s father lived in Israel for a year in the 50’s in an attempt to move there before returning to America to marry and start a family, and her older brother has planned to make Aliyah ever since I have known him, and may actually join us in the next couple of years.

In truth, Goldie has always been 100% in favor of making Aliyah ever since we first met; I was the person who had issues and concerns. We are obviously a team, and Goldie knew when we married that I was unprepared to make the move. But I knew that the minute I said to her, “Let’s go”, that she would be busy packing up.

That’s not to say that I didn’t want to live in Israel. I love Israel and I always loved the thought of eventually settling there at some point. But I was concerned about the safety of our kids. I wasn’t prepared to put them (as I put it then) in harms way, either as civilians or as members of the Israeli army.

Yes, I knew that there are many who live in Israel without ever becoming citizens in order to avoid military service. Even more people use Yeshiva exemptions. (I in no way intend to disparage any of the people in those two groups – they make their choices based on what they feel is best for them) However, Goldie and I both felt that if we were to live in Israel, it would be as citizens. In our hearts we felt a moral obligation that our children do their part in protecting our country (as part of a Hesder Yeshiva/army program) before they started their chosen career paths.

Aside from the safety standpoint, I also worried about finances. With six children, I doubted that a Yeshiva elementary school administrator could find a job in a country where all the schools are public schools and I don’t speak the language like a native.

Much as I may have wanted to, I just didn’t think we could do it. Yet there was always that nagging voice in the back of my head that kept saying, “what if……?”

Then last Shavuos we spent the Yom Tov in Teaneck with Goldie’s brother and his family. We spent most of the Yom Tov meals talking about these issues and how difficult they were for us. But I started to think about it more seriously.

I began to speak with my siblings about the cost of living in Israel and what I would need to earn to support my family. Goldie and I discussed how such a move would impact our kids, especially the teenagers. We really thought about how nice it would be, and what a difference it would make in the way our family would develop. Looking back, it was that Yom Tov that really gave us the first push to really consider it.

Of course, I was safe in these musings, since I was 100% convinced that there was no way I would find a decent job there. So it was easy to magnanimously say, “if only I could find a job, I would really consider it.”

Then, just after the Yomim Noaraim, two things happened that dramatically altered my outlook on the whole situation.

First, my sister in law sent me an email about an Israeli Yeshiva’s search for an administrator/fundraiser. I immediately thought that this was my prime opportunity to put the whole thing to rest. I reasoned that once they showed no interest in me, that I could legitimately say to everyone that I tried, but there really is no work for me in Israel.

Although the job eventually went to someone else, the interest that this particular Yeshiva showed me really opened my eyes to the opportunities that are available if you only look for them. I realized that I might be able to find something if I really wanted to, and that I had to decide what I wanted.

So we talked about it. A lot. I was unsure what I wanted, I still had concerns about the situation in Israel and its long term security as a home for our family. Then tragedy struck. Not me or my family, but in such a way that I took it deep to heart.

You see, someone with whom I developed a close friendship in the last 5 years or so was tragically killed in a one car accident when he lost control of his car while driving home one night in a heavy rain storm. He was a young guy, with so much to live for. He had a wife and three kids to whom he was devoted. He was extremely successful in his profession. Anyone who knew him understood that he was just a genuinely nice guy, with a heart of gold. And he was my friend.

I took the news of his passing very hard. It really shook me. The tragic wastefulness of it hurt. I kept telling myself that there is a grand plan, and this was part of it. That I had to have Emunah that this was what H-shem wanted and that this was the way things are supposed to be. That it was simply “his time” to go.

This was when it hit me that the same thing applied to our making Aliyah. Of course, we don’t rely on miracles and only an idiot walks voluntarily in the middle of an active shootout. However, I thought about all the things we say about Emunah, and about the Yad H-shem and about his plan for the world. I thought about the fact that if your time is up, it will be up NO MATTER WHERE YOU ARE, be it on a bus in Yerushalayim or driving down the highway. I realized that if chas v’shalom tragedies are to befall us, worrying about them won’t prevent them; we must do every thing we can to ensure our safety and security and understand that as always, the end result is in H-shem’s hands.

Internally, I made peace with myself and my concerns. I saw a glimpse of the emunah that powers the dedication of those who live in Chevron and the cities of the West Bank. I understood just a little of how they decided to put themselves in H-shem’s hands, leaving Him to safeguard and protect them from harm.

I saw what Goldie had seen all along. That if we were supposed to make Aliyah that things would work out. That our kids could grow up safe and secure in Israel. That we could achieve the same success that others have before us, if we put forth the serious effort to make things happen as much as we could. And we decided that we would try to put together a plan for it to happen this year. That if we could work out the job issues, and the teenage transition issues and a zillion other issues, that we would actually do it. Sell our house. Move our family. Make Aliyah.

Next week I will try to encapsulate the past 6 months of actual planning that we have done regarding job, moving, etc. I will introduce you to Nefesh Bnefesh (if you don’t know who they are – check this space in the next issue) and the wonderful things that they have done to encourage Aliyah. I don’t think we’d be making Aliyah if it wasn’t for this organization and their staff.

Thereafter, I will try to keep a journal of sorts so that you can “live through” the Aliyah process and get a sense of what it is that Olim go through. From our trip in a couple of weeks to find a house all the way through what is certain to be a tumultuous first year in getting settled.