My son began his army service earlier this week. He’s not our first child to serve, and he won’t be our last, but as another parent wisely said to me at the drop off, “Today, they are each our only one.”

My husband and I milled around the tent outside the base with the other nervous families. The would-be soldiers found their friends. They sang and danced, looking brave and strong and joyful. I will admit that I was crying. But I had also sprayed sunscreen directly into both eyes while exiting the car, which gives some necessary context to the extent of the tear-streaming. Sunscreen can be tricky.

As we waited around, I tried to name each of my emotions, in the hopes of untangling them. There was fear of course. And love. There was pride at watching my child stride confidently into his future as a defender of the Jewish people, and anger that this future includes a growing list of global threats. History is not classically counted as an emotion, but as Zionists living in the State of Israel, we are acutely aware of our Jewish past, so I will add that I felt history. I also........

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