Memorial Day יום הזיכרון

Tonight Yom HaZikaron, Memorial Day, begins in Israel. I went to the ceremony at the local memorial in Dimona where the entire city had gathered. I walked there with Orr and Mor and we got there a minute before the siren rang. It is a very interesting and, I think, fitting custom. If you're at a memorial, it helps mark the beginning and sets a very somber tone; but if you're not a memorial and if you're making an effort not to commemorate the day, you are forced to because the siren can't be ignored.

The ceremony began with with prayers read by the Chief Rabbi of Dimona and another important local rabbi (who happened to be an American oleh). As the Chief Rabbi read the prayer for Gilad Shalit, his voice began to falter and he had trouble maintaining his composure.

High School girls read poems the pain of loss and the cruelty of time on those who survive the fallen, interspersed with some somber songs. Then they read out the names of everyone from Dimona who died in service or in terrorist attacks since 1948. It took a long time, but everyone stayed where they were and there was complete silence as we all listened. After all the names were read, we stood for HaTikvah.

When we finished HaTikvah and everyone dispersed, some of us walked over to a smaller ceremony for a soldier from Dimona who was recently killed. At the beginning, Noam Shalit, Gilad's father, spoke. It is amazing he still has the ability and strength to go on speaking at events like this after nearly four years. Mourning on memorial day is hard enough, but to be kept in limbo, as the Shalit family has, must be intolerable. To get up in front of everyone and say "גלעד עדיין חי" "Gilad is still alive," is nothing short of amazing.

On our way back home, Stav asked me what I thought about Israeli Memorial Day and how it compared to the American Memorial Day. I told her how it is a shame that in America, unless you were in the army or know someone personally who died, Memorial Day is just a day off from work. It's a day of shopping for sales and going to BBQs. It has lost almost all meaning and it is only in Israel that I ever felt the day truly respected.