It’s grandmother time in the new episode of my ongoing story “The Crater,” Sticky Kids. The first two episodes center on Gidi, a sergeant in a reserve unit stationed at Kibbutz Hoshea, where Hamas terrorists slaughtered and abducted entire families on October 7 and torched their homes. Gidi’s three kids are being cared for in a refugee hotel in Jerusalem by his mother, who finds herself in an exasperatingly familiar role.
As always, I’m grateful to Avi Katz for putting my words into pictures.
I’ve been a grandfather for two years now. Three months ago, my eldest daughter and her wife, together with their daughter, my eldest grandchild, left their home in the Galilee to spend the Simhat Torah holiday with us. So did our youngest daughter, a student at Tel Hai College, walking distance from the Lebanese border. What had been planned as a family weekend turned into a lengthy stay. Our youngest was called up for reserve duty soon thereafter. The granddaughter and her parents lived with us on and off—mostly on—until just this past week, when they went home. It was wonderful to help care for our granddaughter on a daily basis, but it was also intense. I think we all did a fine job of handling a challenging situation—four adults and one toddler sharing a small apartment (with occasional visits from our soldier daughter). We’re no exception—grandparents are playing an essential role in this war, as they have in previous ones.
“Sticky Kids” is an integral part of the larger story I’m telling, but more specifically it highlights that war is tough, and calls for heroism, from the older generation as well.
What I’m Reading
On the Hebrew side, I recently competed Eshkol Nevo’s Homesick (ארבע בתים וגעגוע—the Hebrew title is much more evocative but hard to translate—literally it would be something like Four Homes and a Yearning) a touching story, comic and evocative, about two students who fall in love and move in together soon after the assassination of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin. It’s a fun read and has been translated into English.
Now I’m well into To This Day (עד הנה), S. Y. Agnon’s late novel based on his sojourn in Berlin during World War I. I presume that Agnon’s delicate irony and keen observation come through in Hillel Halkin’s translation, but conveying the sheer beauty and joy of his Hebrew prose is nearly impossible. I’m finding it hard to put down.
On the English side, I’m pushing myself through Maxim Osipov’s acclaimed short story collection Rock, Paper, Scissors. I’m looking forward to my book club’s discussion of the book this week because I’m not really connecting with it, in particular with Osipov’s super-colloquial, often annoyingly precious style. I’m curious to hear what the defenders of the book will say.
Besorot tovot,
Haim