MEVASSERET ZION, Israel — I think I’ve lost track of time. What day of the week is it? Does it matter? What difference does it make anyway? All the days are the same in this time of isolation, or single confinement, if you prefer (actually, double in my case as my husband is with me).
I’ve not consulted my diary for several weeks. When I opened it just now (only to check if I’ve missed anyone’s birthday, as I certainly can’t remember them) I see all the events I’ve missed – concerts of the Philharmonic and the Jerusalem Symphony, meetings of groups to which I belong, and, most sad of all, a children’s concert (Carnival of the Animals) to which I was supposed to take my four-year-old granddaughter. I presume that one day, when all this is over, we will be reimbursed or compensated in some way for all the things we have had to miss due to no fault of our own, but for the moment there’s no hope of getting to see or hear any of these attractive events in the near future.
The fact that I’ve also had to miss non-urgent dentist appointments causes me no grief at all, surprisingly enough, though I hope my teeth will not take revenge on me and start playing up for not having been attended to as planned (of course I continue to brush them assiduously day and night). In addition, our weekly encounters with children and grandchildren at our Friday night meal have been replaced by Zoom sessions, which are all well and good but hardly an adequate substitute. We are fortunate in having some grandchildren living nearby, so that one or another of them drops by from time to time to sit in the garden with us (of course, wearing masks and keeping a safe distance) for a little chat.
I haven’t left the house for well over a month, and am starting to think that I may never leave it again. Luckily, we have plenty of room, as well as a small garden, so that the near-solitary life is not as much of a hardship for us as it must be for families with many children (or even one) in small apartments on the sixth floor of an apartment block.
Counting one’s blessings is one of the occupations that I try to busy myself with, as well as cooking, doing some minimal cleaning, and busying myself at my computer. Luckily, both hubby and I each have a study and a computer, so that we are free to get on with our various projects. In his case it’s preparing another article for his website on Caravaggio, and in my case it’s getting my latest novel, Friends, Neighbors, Traitors, ready for publication on Amazon, first as an ebook and eventually also – hopefully – as a paperback. We’re both in the final stages of our respective projects, and will have to try and take a breather upon completing them before going on to the next (luckily, there’s always another one forming on the edges of our minds).
Meanwhile, the politicians continue with their manipulations and skullduggery, casting a dark shadow over everything and everyone. And so, despite the best efforts of the population at large to keep to the official restrictions about staying away from friends and families, those same politicians blatantly disregard them when it comes to their own families, probably laughing up their sleeves while doing so. As for their pleas to opposition parties to unite with them in order to serve the common cause, these have been proved time and again to be empty, hypocritical and self-serving.
We all know that politicians are no angels, but surely Israel deserves a better leadership than these narcissistic phonies.
*
Dorothea Shefer-Vanson is a freelance writer and author based in the Jerusalem suburb of Mevasseret Zion, Israel. She may be contacted via dorothea.shefer@sdjewishworld.com