It’s not hard to forget anything.

It is often when my heart aches, when I can’t shake my grief off, I simply look at the calendar to know that another 25th of the month is approaching. It’s funny how the soul works, an inbuilt cycle of time, connected to your subconscious to remind you that you are not far from your pain.
Last year, On Tisha B’av, Channah turned to me before we entered the Synagogue, “This holiday is to remember the sadness of the Jewish people, in fasting we aim to feel that humility in sadness”. “All I have to do is think about the year before and i’ll feel the pain the entire week!” I responded with my dark humor.
This year, it’s not so far from the truth. Last Shabbat, I dropped in for a lunch for the Girlfriends of Fallen Soldiers. I only knew a few girls from my own past and the new recruits from last years Lebanon war are fresh and much younger. “Soooo, who’s the newest recruit??” I sit back in my chair and ask half-heartedly to myself before looking around”.
My close friend in the group, Kelly, darts her eyes across the table and nods. “Her, over there- two months ago.” The girl turns and looks at me. I don’t say much to her, except I put my hand over my heart because it’s hurting for the pain I remember feeling at two months. “She’s so young” I say out loud to no one as I look at her and she pretends to ignore me. “She’s not that much younger than you were a couple years ago susi” reminds Kelly’s mother.
Girls are walking outside for mini therapy sessions with the weathered members. Some aren’t ready to make the dark jokes or slip into the public persona of the girl that has her sh*t together, Or the girl that has moved on. “I was so needy” Says Shani, another old friend. “I realize as the years past, I couldn’t trust anyone, feelings of abandonment constantly floating around, many years later- I am finally healing.” I nod at her,while playing with my espresso cup. I don’t know what to really say anymore: I’m not a big fan of hanging out with other women I have my grief in common with. I know how normal the grieving process is and how long it is. I understand the psychology of how I have fears of losing people in my life, but still, I’m not in the mood to be reminded how sad everyone is after all this time. It can break you.
It can break you. I keep it in a rucksack and sling it over my shoulder.
As I pick up my things to leave the restaurant. “You’ll be speaking for us next week?” Asks Rina, the mother hen of the organization. “Absolutely, and I have Tisha B’av to get me in the mood for the engagement..” I smile sly and walk to my boyfriends car.
Fast well.

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Germapino with a Jewish Twist. Twist. Collective Thoughts of a Ginrod are the musings of a Texas born,half German, half Filipina girl who who went on a trip to Bangkok and found herself in the Holy Land , as a jew, married to an Englishman, with 3 kids and a pup named Henck.