Extra-Ordinary

Today was the closest we have had to a ‘normal’ day since we got here. After getting the kids off to school, I spent the morning cleaning and doing laundry. My husband went off to buy material for the succah. The boys managed to come home on their own – no one ended up in another town today. We did homework and colored. I made dinner. It was all seeming pretty ordinary until I noticed the view as I was driving our daughter home from Gan (nursery). The 5 minute drive from the Rimon neighborhood where she goes to school, down to the Gefen neighborhood where we live, was enough to take my breath away. As I noticed the panoramic view of the Judean hills I realized that ordinary living would forevermore be extraordinary. Later, the kids rode their bikes, we ate dinner and gave the kids baths. It was a good day. I’m starting to feel a little less like a new immigrant and a little more like a new being.

Later on I read this quote in the Muqata blog. It was very apropos.

From R' Ari Enkin at the Hirhurim blog:
"The Holiness of an ordinary weekday in Eretz Yisrael is like that of a Shabbat in Chutz La'aretz. The Holiness of Shabbat in Eretz Yisrael is like that of Yom Kippur in Chutz La'aretz. The Holiness of Yom Kippur in Eretz Yisrael cannot be found anywhere else in the world" -Zohar

I first saw this teaching shortly after making Aliya five years ago and it has been with me daily ever since. Frankly, for me it is one of the most compelling pieces of introspection and mussar – to know that I am in the palace of the King, where the Holiness is incomparably powerful - and even tangible. How those of us who live in Eretz Yisrael must properly prepare for, utilize, and appreciate Yom Kippur.

Yom Kippur -- a day of reflection

Yom Kippur in Efrat was ... different - but not in a bad way. Just different from what I'm used to. One major difference was that I was not suffering through a fast day during a sweltering Miami Autumn. Plus in Israel - they change the clock before Yom Kippur in order to shorten the fast. How cool is that? The other major difference is what I did - or rather did not do - on the holiest day of the year. For the last 6 years I have managed to work out child care for the High Holy Days between youth groups in Shul and non-Jewish babysitters. In Israel, most shuls do not have groups and it is pretty difficult to find a non-Jewish babysitter that you would trust with your kids. So I knew in advance that much of my Yom Kippur service to Hashem would be servicing my own kids. Still, I could not fathom not going to Shul for Kol Nidre and so like many other moms, I went to Shul too. Then I spent the remaining two hours wondering why I had. I had made peace with the idea that I did not have a requirement to daven like my husband did. I had made peace with the idea that it was more important for me to take care of my children then to daven. I had come to understand that my husband's davening would count for me, which was a bit counterintuitive after being raised in a society that espouses equality between sexes. Yet, for some reason I had to go. I did catch a few notes of Kol Nidre before joining the chorus of children in the nearby playground. It made me nostalgic and I felt at home. Was that a reason to go? I watched the other mothers, many of whom were in the makeshift women's section in the lobby next to the door to the men's section. It was filled with women who could not make it into the real Women's section with their children but wanted to be part of the service none-the-less. The women were struggling to daven while holding babies and feeding children. Don't get me wrong - this was not a pitiful scene - it was quite beautiful and everyone was joyful. Only I could not figure out what to do with myself. Should I struggle too? If I made my daughter sit on my lap while I tried to get a few words out to Gd, would it even matter? If I do not have a requirement to pray and my husband's prayers count for me, then why should I bother? If my prayers do make a difference and I can impart a better year for all of us, than what am I doing outside the Shul in the first place? So there I stood, or rather sat , in a no-man's land - listening to the prayers, but with my daughter in my hands instead of a siddur. I loved the experience no less. When I was putting my kids to bed that night I thought about my tzadeket friend who told me with great joy how she had got up at 6 am on Rosh Hashana so that she could daven quietly and then be ready to start with the kids at 8. I thought about going downstairs to do some praying or meditating of my own once the kids got to sleep. I thought about it and I thought about her. And then I got up and went to sleep! Luckily, my husband parts easier with sleep than I do and he woke up at the early hour of 4:50 am. in order to go to the early Minyan so that I could catch the last hours of Musaf in the regular Minyan. I did enjoy Musaf immensely and I had to admit that 2 hours in Shul was easier than 6! I briefly cringed at the thought of not going to Neila, but had a most meaningful Neila service at home with the kids. I got to hear what THEY wanted to ask Hashem as Yom Kippur was coming to an end! So all in all it was a sweet way to start the year, though I'm still not sure what it is exactly that I did most of the day!
  I hope your Yom Kippur was meaningful, whatever way you spent it! May all of our prayers be answered for the best!

All roads lead home

Rosh Hashana is not just the beginning of the year, it is also, quite literally, the Rosh -- the head of the year. What this means is that we have a unique opportunity to create a vision of what we want to come that year and to make that vision the “head” – the leader of our year. In fact, the reason that we eat symbolic foods at our Rosh Hashana meal is not because they have magical powers (husband’s joke – if we eat lettuce, raisins and celery - Hashem will lettuce have a rais in salary). We eat these foods because they help to form our vision and to keep our picture focused on sweet stuff. This year we had plenty of visual aids to create a vision of what we want to follow. Rosh Hashana in Efrat was nothing less than picturesque and blissful. Of course it helped that we were invited out for all 4 meals and for the first time in 8 years, I cooked absolutely nothing! As the chag began I was watching my children play in the park next to the shul. The sun was setting behind the Judean hills. All around us were children playing happily in an area built of Jerusalem stone and Jewish dreams. The weather was cool and breezy. It was one of those Aliyah moments in which I felt that I really did have an “elevation.” I really did fulfill a dream that began long ago – way before me, my parents, and their parents. There is a saying by Rabbi Yehuda Halevi that says “Everywhere I go I am going to Eretz Yisrael.” When you make this idea the head of your year, your Aliyah begins in that moment. Long ago, I had a dream that I would live in Israel one day. Looking back in my life I see that I wherever I went, I was headed that way. I had to move to Perth, Australia and to Miami in order to move to Israel. From living in Perth I learned that it is possible to live far from family, and yet still be close. From the South Africans in Perth I learned that leaving certain luxuries behind does not have to mean a decrease in the standard of living. It can also lead us to a higher standard. As one oleh said “I have never had so little and yet felt so rich.” From the South Americans in Miami I learned that it is possible to be part of another country without losing one’s identity. Being an immigrant does not have to mean a life of trying to fit in or trying to be something you are not. I’m proud to be and Israeli but also proud to have been born in the USA with all of the good things that it has to offer. From living in Perth and in Miami I learned to appreciate 4 seasons that coincide with the Jewish yearly cycle. For the first time in a long time, Sukkot will actually feel like the time of year it is supposed to represent. No fan or air conditioner needed! Yet from Miami, I learned that it’s ok to be hot and sweaty, or as one of the locals put it “moist.” At least here we get a break from that. From living in Perth, I learned to appreciate a multitude of kosher food and restaurants. There was on kosher restaurant in Perth open two hours a week. After we left he closed and apparently told someone that he closed because we left! From living in Miami I learned to love Israelis and to see the softness beneath the hard veneer. In short, after being around the world and back, I learned that there is no place like home. Though many of us take the roundabout route, for Jews, all roads lead home.

Happy New Year 5770!

If I had Hebrew font, I could show you that the year is written Taf Shin Ayin. That could be an acronym for Teheh Shnat Aliyah. This should be a year of Aliyah. Wishing you a year of elevation physically and spiritually!

The Learning Curve (how the kids are doing in school)

One of the most common questions that we are getting these days is about how the kids are doing in school. After all it is quite challenging to sit in class all day when the teacher is speaking your language, how much more so when you understand almost nothing. As one person put it: remember how you feel when you are listening to a speaker and everything he or she says is either terribly boring or going way over your head? Now imagine doing that 6 days a week for the whole day! Luckily, our kids have been pretty good about it so far. When they walk in we ask them how their day went and the response ranges from “good” to “the best!” Then we ask if they understood anything. To this they invariably respond with a huge grin and a very enthusiastic “not a word!” I call this success. However, we did have our share of blunders along the way. On the first day of school I went to put rosemary oil on their heads since this is said to repel lice – a nightmare for an American, but no big deal to Israelis who often let the lice take up room and board in their kids’ heads. In my haste, I forgot to mix the oil essence with water. In fact, I should have mixed a few drops of oil with a ½ cup of water. Instead I put more than a few drops directly on head. I figured out it wasn’t right when Shira started to cry and hold her nose and then when Akiva, who was up the stairs said, “What stinks?” Good thing she is only 2, or I may have cost her the chance to have any friends in her new class! The other blunder was not our fault. We had planned to drive our kids to and from school, thinking they were not ready for the bus system here, but they would have none of that. So on the second day of school, Ezra boarded the bus from school to our street, only they forget to let him off. After 30 minutes and a bunch of frantic phone calls he was located, still on the bus and happy as can be. The next day Akiva got on the wrong bus and ended up leaving Efrat and getting a tour of the neighboring town, Elazar. It took a while for him to figure out that he was no longer in Efrat and a very frustrated bus driver who could not speak a word of English eventually got him back to us. Since then it’s been smooth. I still marvel at their independence. At the ages of 4 and 6, they can come home from school all on their own and can even walk up the block to their taekwondo class all by themselves! They love the independence and it builds their esteem. Next stop: the grocery store. That will be cool.

Life without a Lift

We just got called today to find out that our long awaited “lift” (container) is coming on Sunday. While I am elated at the prospect of having our own fridge, oven, washer and dryer there is something I will surely miss about living without stuff. When the Torah wants to describe Avraham as wealthy, the word used is “Kaved.” Kaved literally means heavy and every time I move overseas (this is the third time) I am reminded why. Life is so much lighter when there is less. All we have right now is 3 air mattresses, 2 thin foam mattresses, 2 pots, 2 tables, and 10 chairs. We have some linen, clothing, some cleaning products and food. That is it. The house is bright and airy. There is so little to make a mess with and little to clean up. Life is simple and we enjoy simple things. When we first got our borrowed tables in the house, my 2-year-old was so excited saying “table, table!” You would have thought she had just gotten an amazing birthday present. 2 months ago, she had literally thousands of dollars worth of toys at her disposable, and not one was nearly as intriguing. So while we are excited and eager to be in our own beds and to eat at our own table, I hope that we can take the lesson of simplicity with us and remember to buy less, share more, and pass on those things that no longer serve us.
Shabbat Shalom, Shabbat Menucha.
Shabbat of Peace and of Rest!

The Sunshine State

We have internet! And all that comes with it – our US Miami number is now working, I can blog again, skype, you name it. After a whole week and a few days without, it’s like rediscovering the wonders of the web all over again. This past week and a half have been very busy. I started to write out everything that we have done, thinking that it might be helpful to anyone who is considering aliyah, but quickly found that my brain cells have been fried. I can hardly remember anything! It's a good thing that Nefesh B'Nefesh gives everyone a poster (that looks kind of like a rather fun boardgame) with all of the necesary steps listed on it so that we can have some sense of what has been done and what needs to be done yet. It’s kind of like having a baby. You are so busy and tired that you can’t remember a thing! So I’ll skip to my thought of the week. During this process, we have been given a lot of advice and support by friends, strangers, and professionals. However there is one line that is said over and over again, starting with one of the government officials at the welcoming ceremony. “Eretz Yisrael niknet b’yisurim,” (a quote from the gemara) “Israel is acquired with yisurim – tzoris -- extreme hardship.” In other words you are going to suffer this year. This is often tempered with “kol hatchalot kashot,” “All beginnings are difficult” – meaning it’s hard in the beginning, but it gets easier. This make me think that we are going through some kind of hazing to become part of a fraternity and while I know that a lot of people have horror stories from their initiating year, I find it very depressing to be on the lookout for ours. One woman even showed us a graph that showed how all olim go up and then they all dip down, and sometimes very down before going up again. I know that the first year is hard. I know that there are challenges. But so far we are having a really good time and I find the yisurim thought to be a bit of rain on my parade. My other problem with the thought is the fact that there is a lot of truth to it. Many olim do go through experiences ranging from slightly unpleasant to total nightmare. Why? Why would Hashem do that? Here we are, new immigrants that gave up the good life in America in order to live in the Holy Land. Can’t Gd give us a break? The zechuyot are great and everything, but could we skip the yisurim bit? It’s kind of like when Avraham comes to Eretz Yisrael, only to encounter a famine. So here is my thought that I acquired while speaking to a fellow new oleh who is having plenty of challenges of his own: ITS ALL GOOD. As my friend from Miami (now in Hong Kong) and fellow Life Coach Ana Scherer taught me to say – we ask for what we want and then acknowledge that we will get what we asked for or something better. In Eretz Yisrael (and everywhere else), there is a lot of ‘something better.’ We think we want A, but B may be better. Judaism talks a lot about light. Light is goodness, wisdom, even Gd Himself is referred to as the Endless Light. We are taught that when Hashem first created the world some of the light had to be hidden – it was too bright for human beings to stand. In the future, the light will return and we will be able to enjoy it. Light is a good thing, but only if we have the eyes to see it. When a person comes to Eretz Yisrael, there is a lot more light and sometimes it takes time for the eyes to adjust. How we experience our aliyah depends on how we see things and what we choose to focus on. As my husband says “we don’t see things as they are, we see things as we are. “ So much of life is experienced as a reflection of who we are rather then as what the true reality may be. Sometimes we experience the light as too bright even though it is always there to heal, to guide, to lead…to something better. However the potential is always there to experience the light as pure, wonderful sunshine. I’d like to propose a radical idea: it is possible to experience aliyah without feeling yisurim! Lest you think I am heretical and contradict the Gemara, allow me to suggest that we have had our share of tzoris and continue to bear our share of yisurim for the sake of obtaining and maintaining Eretz Yisrael. We need not bear anymore! I prefer to focus on a different ancient text – a blessing form the daily Amidah which states “Teka b’shofar l’cheirutainu v’sa nes lekabetz geluyotainu vkabzeitnu beyachad me’arba kanfot ha’aretz.” “blast the trumpets of our freedom, raise the banner high of our ingathering, and bring us together from all four corners of the Earth.” We are having a blast. Come join us. This is the true Sunshine State.

Shabbat -- the power of NOW

We just spent a truly amazing first Shabbat with my brother and his family in Beit Shemesh. My sister, who is back for Shana bet, was there too. It was magical to watch our kids become best friends with their cousins and we found comfort in being with family who had gone through this before. In addition, those of us that could not fit in the townhouse stayed across the street with friends we know from Edison and we even had the surprise of bumping into good friends who were visiting from the US this weekend. On top of that, my Rosh Yeshiva from MMY, Rabbi David, is the Rav of my brother’s shul. We felt so at home and it all felt so familiar that I forgot where I was and that I was in the middle of a HUGE move and life change. I was actually taken aback when I was standing on the porch as the sun was setting and I took in the magnificent view. Then it hit me that we were having this wonderful Shabbat in Eretz Yisrael. Not that I had forgotten, it’s just that the focus had become so much on who we were with and the beauty of it all. Shabbat is always a chance to ‘get lost in the moment.’ To leave the past week behind and to let go of worrying about the next week. But this week, it was especially important for us. As I am learning quickly, a great tool for making Aliyah is to learn how to live in the present. In the few moments that I was down on that first afternoon, the image of Lot’s wife looking back at Sodom came into my mind. She turned into salt, the symbol of preservation – of preserving things of the past. It was then that I realized that if I look back at what I left, if I compare it to what I have now, and if I can’t let go, this process will be sad and difficult. Likewise, if I think about all of the challenges that we may face in the coming days, months, and years I’ll be terribly overwhelmed to the point of (analysis) paralysis. Shabbos was a great time to let go and just go with the flow. It was a celebration of all of the blessings in our lives at this moment. I will try more than ever to take that with me in to this week. That is the power of living in the NOW – that ability to be happy with the moment, and that is my secret to getting through this year!

The Exodus

What an incredible experience! And even more amazing is how many people shared it with us – 1,000 people at Ben Gurion Airport and thousands more watching live on the internet. We were on board the largest plane load of North American of Jews ever to make aliyah together! We made history.

The Airport

The airport part went pretty smooth, especially once I let go of the need to know where every bag and child were at any given moment. With 10 bags, 7 carry ons, a huge kennel, dog, and three kids to look after, its no wonder the carry on with all of our food ended up being loaded by one of our well-meaning children onto the conveyor belt to the plane! At least we had our family with us to help and bring more food. Moshe was interviewed by chanel 1 news in Israel and quoted as saying “we plan to move to Efrat in the Gush and hope to build a house one day if Obama lets us.” Hero won the award for cutest dog (well, at least in my opinion) wearing an Israeli flag bandana around his neck that his Savti gave him.

The Send-off

Once we said our goodbyes, our journey really began, but at a very slow pace. As we were passing through the seemingly endless security line at a snail’s pace, the kids were busy complaining, I spotted a friend I hadn’t seen since the 11th grade and we started to make some new friends. I couldn’t help but wonder what leaving Egypt must have been like. Did one Israelite girl spot another whom she hadn’t seen since her 11th year of slavery? Were the kids wining and the fathers schlepping? I told my kids that they should be grateful for an Exodus such as the one we were experiencing. While they were complaining about long lines, I suggested that it must have been harder to walk all the way through the dessert. They didn’t like that. I got very emotional feeling that we were walking, breathing, and living a very important part of Jewish history right there and then. We were going on our Exodus, and while it wasn’t easy, it was transcendent!

The Plane Ride

Everyone was incredibly patient and kind on this flight. The captain began by welcoming all of the “olim yekarim” dear immigrants aboard the plane ride home. All on board were eager to help one another. At any given time at least half the plane was walking around (the seat belt light went off while we were still at a 60 degree incline), a baby was screaming, and there was a long line for the self-serve drinks, though curiously never for the bathrooms! The best part of the plane ride was the landing. The whole plane clapped and cheered and sang “v’shavu banim” (and the children return to their borders) together.

The Arrival

As we got off the plane our family kissed the ground together. We boarded the bus to the terminal and were let off to a crowd of a thousand! There was music and soldiers and such incredible energy that we wanted it to last forever. While walking through the lines of soldiers we ran into Natan Sharansky and my husband had a beautiful conversation with him. It later occurred to us how poetic the meeting was as Moshe had attended Sharansky’s arrival to Israel from the former Soviet Union in 1989. It wasn’t long before we spotted our family who had signs and flags to welcome us home. We danced, and sang, and celebrated. You can still catch the video of our arrival and short interview at nbn.org.il/live.


Since then we have been slowly acclimating and getting into reality. It is still very wonderful and surreal, thought I wouldn’t be telling the truth if I said that it has all been bliss. I did have a bit of a “down” somewhere between the HOURS of waiting for luggage, getting to our new home (which is less than ideal, though I knew this already), and repacking to go to the beautiful apartment we are borrowing from friends for a week. Today it occurred to me that this was my ‘amalek’ moment. Amalek was the first nation to attack the Jewish people after they came out of Egypt. They targeted and harmed the weak and vulnerable among the nation, but they did not win. Some sages explain that Amalek signifies doubt. When we are tired and weak, we are attacked by doubt, fear, and uncertainty. However, we need not succumb. Thanks Gd after food and rest I was able to say hallel on my first Rosh Chodesh in Eretz Yisrael and proclaim “Zeh Hayom asa Hashem, nagilah v’nismicha bo!” “Today is the day Hashem created to rejoice and be joyful!”

What a blessing. We are Home!

Not your Grandpa's aliyah

Making aliyah today is nothing like our ancestors could have imagined. What follows is my list of top ten modern day miracles that have transformed the way we move to the holy land.

1. AIRPLANES – I know most of us are more or less over the invention of flight, but when you take a step back, you see that it truly is miraculous. Just the other day I was having a conversation with one of my kids. He asked me how all of the Jews will get to Israel when Moshiach comes. I told him about the tradition that we will come on ‘wings of Eagles.’ I then went on to explain that some people think that airplanes are the Eagles that the Torah is referring to. To this, my son responded. “ I hope its real Eagles. That is so much cooler. “ While I have to agree with him, you still have to admit – it’s pretty amazing that we can sit in a chair in the sky and fly with the birds all the way to Israel in a matter of hours.

2. CELL PHONES – Friends of ours who made aliyah 30 years ago told us that they had to wait NINE MONTHS just for a land line when they went. Today, we can have a phone instantaneously that can go with us wherever we go and allow our nervous chalaria mothers back home to contact us whenever they feel the need. More importantly, we nervous mothers living in Israel will be able to keep tabs on our children in a country that experiences some danger once in a while.

3. FACEBOOK and the like – it’s easier than ever to be in touch with friends and families overseas. I found this out by accident. I read somewhere about a pro Israel rally that I wanted to attend – the details were posted on facebook. I wanted to go to the rally so I joined facebook. I woke up the next morning to find a flood of facebook emails from friends and former students from Australia. Then followed friends from high school and elementary school. All of the sudden I could know the intimate life of someone I hadn’t spoken to since the first grade. I even met some family members via facebook, that I probably would never have met otherwise. What this means for us olim is that out of sight does not have to mean out of mind. The goodbyes are slightly easier and connections are kept strong.

4. DIGITAL CAMERAS – I chose a home to live in without even stepping foot in it. When I found something of interest, we had a very wonderful friend go check it out for us and take a zillion pictures. When I called him to see how it went, he had just gotten home. Within a matter of minutes he had uploaded the images and sent them to me thousands of miles away where I got a virtual tour of my home to be.

5. INTERNET – It used to be that a person living in the middle of nowhere was, well, living in the middle of nowhere. Now you can be anywhere and still be somewhere. You could be living in the Galilee and doing business in New York. Most importantly, you can be living in shekalim while earning in dollars.

6. SKYPE – Long ago I experienced my first trip to Disney. One of the memories that stuck out in my 5-year-old mind was a ride in “tomorrowland” that showed the progress of technology and projected into the future. Part of their depiction of the future was a phone that allowed the callers to be seen by each other. I’m not that old, and already what was science fiction then is reality now. Skype is a free service that not only allows people to call each other, but with a webcam, we can see each other too. While normally a private person like me would find this a nuisance, it’s a real boon when you have kids, grandparents, and nieces and nephews in your family.

7. Ikea – Ok, maybe this one doesn’t belong, however it certainly makes it easier to move when you know you’ve got good furniture at great prices in a store you are familiar with. Perhaps the most miraculous things about Ikea in Israel is that it is one of the only things that doesn’t cost any more there than it does in the US. Can we say that about anything else?

8. VONAGE -- Thanks to Vonage, we can take our Miami phone number with us to Israel, or for that matter, anywhere else in the world. No one has an excuse to not call us when they visit. You already know our number! To top it off, for the many people who pay a flat rate to make any amount of calls within the US, this means that calling us from the US to Israel will be FREE!

9. GPS – I was always afraid of getting lost when driving in a new place, but that fear is amplified by a whole lot when that new place includes unfriendly neighborhoods that make Harlem look good. I know it’s not foolproof, but having a GPS does help assuage those fears. And at least I won’t get lost on our little mountain of Efrat! If anyone makes a pilot trip to Israel, I strongly recommend renting a GPS. It is invaluable when you are trying to scout out the whole of Israel in a few days or weeks.

10. NBN – Last but not least, the greatest modern day miracle in making aliyah has to be the initiation of Nefesh B’Nefesh. What this organization has done and is doing to make aliyah from North America easier and more popular is unbelievable. I am honored to have grown up just up the street from its founder Rabbi Josh/Yehoshua Fass. Like the biblical Yehoshua, he is truly doing Gd’s work in settling the land. NBN has streamlined the aliyah process by providing guidance from start to finish, financial assistance, help finding a job, help navigating the Israeli bureaucracy, and so much more. Because of them, I will be able to board a plane tomorrow comprised fully of Olim. They will seat us by region so that we can start meeting each other, we will be Israeli by the time we land, and we will be greeted with huge fanfare and ceremony. And you can all watch it live at nbn.org.il/live. It doesn’t get better than this!

So that’s my list, but ultimately, the greatest miracle is the fact that aliyah exists today. I’ll end with a thought from Israel’s most famous poet, Yehuda Amichai. I borrowed it from my husband’s last sermon in Miami.

“Once I was sitting on the steps near the gate at David's Citadel and I put down my two heavy baskets beside me. A group of tourists stood there around their guide, and I became their point of reference. "You see that man over there with the baskets? A little to the right of his head there's an arch from the Roman period. A little to the right of his head." "But he's moving, he's moving!" I said to myself: Redemption will come only when they are told, "Do you see that arch over there from the Roman period? It doesn't matter, but near it, a little to the left and then down a bit, there's a man who has just bought fruit and vegetables for his family."

Moving Up

Aspaklaria has a new lease on life. With my new life about to begin, it's time for a rebirth of this blog. Actually, it is because of this new journey I am starting that this blog has had a temporary demise. My family and I are about to make 'aliyah' – we are moving up to our Homeland – Israel. If anyone out there is considering this move, my first piece of advice; start getting ready now! First of all, make sure that your entire family has passports. As the granddaughter of holocaust survivors, I believe that every Jew should have a passport. I have been saying this forever, only I never took my own advice. Let's just say that my husband and I sighed in relief when our kids' passports were finally completed in early July (we leave mid-August). Second, de-clutter now! You never know how much stuff you have until you move. Even if you are not planning Aliyah in the near future (although you should) you may want to pretend that you are. This is so that you can reap the benefits of going through all of your worldly possessions and asking yourself questions like "do I really need this?" or "does anyone really like this?" and getting rid of whatever doesn't make the grade. FYI – these questions are meant to refer to things and not to people. A good rule to live by – toss anything that is not beautiful, usable, or meaningful. These last few months of organizing have not been easy – it's like Pesach cleaning on steroids, but I am hoping that it will pay off on the other end when my lift comes and everything actually fits inside my new Israeli home. The other thing that has occupied a lot of my time in preparation for this move has been shopping. But not necessarily the fun kind of shopping – like shoes and cloths – but shopping for things like paper towels and peanut butter. Well-meaning friends and family have armed us with lists of stuff to bring from the US that you can't find in Israel – or at least at a reasonable price. But after filling two huge carts at Costco and almost passing out when they had told me how much I spent, I couldn't help but think that the whole approach was a little ridiculous. Am I going to fly back every summer to by paper plates and aluminum foil? How bad can Israeli paper towels be? Will I be having an inner debate every time I need to use one of my precious American paper towels? I hope to answer these burning questions and more as we take this journey together.

Leila Tov!