The convergence of the important Israeli holidays of Spring: Passover, Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day), Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day for Fallen Soldiers and Victims of Terror), and Yom HaAtzmaut (Israel Independence Day) has just concluded.

From Passover, the celebration of the Jewish people escaping slavery in Egypt, to the horror of the Holocaust and the memory of the six million, and the sirens blasting throughout Israel while people stand in silence honoring those fallen soldiers and victims of terror, to the celebration of Israel becoming its own state, and the joy of Jews returning to their homeland, battered though they may be, it’s a month of heavy reflection dense with memory, grief, resilience, and resolve.

The video above is on Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day for Fallen Soldiers and Victims of Terror). It makes me cry. When will humans learn not to hurt one another on either side?

These days remind us that Jewish history is not abstract — it is lived in bodies, families, and names. Together they form a narrative spine: the trauma we remember, the lives we mourn, and the nation that rises — imperfect, beloved, and still insisting on its right to exist. Once again, the war with Iran and its proxies confronts Israel with an unmistakable existential threat. From the diaspora, we declare: Am Yisrael Chai (The People of Israel live)!

As Tevye’s wry complaint to God in Fiddler on the Roof says, “I know we are the chosen people. But—once in a while—can’t You choose someone else?”

Yom HaAtzmaut arrived, but war overshadowed what is meant to be a day of unrestrained celebration.

And we cannot ignore the festering wound Palestinians call the Nakba. No one can dispute — life is complicated and can be deeply painful. It is essential to acknowledge differing vantage points with honesty and courage, even when doing so is uncomfortable.

Stepping beyond the comfort of our own mirrors, we must ask: how—and why—do Palestinians and other Arab countries view Israel as they do?

Israel’s own citizens protest loudly against the war, filling streets and public squares with dissent. Can those voices translate into political change at the ballot box? And beyond Israel’s borders, how does the rest of the world perceive the Jewish state in these confusing and volatile times? It’s concerning and ugly, and requires far more study than most of today’s society is willing to give it. How else can such disparate voices be evaluated fairly? And at what cost if they are not judged by factual experiences?

Why Part I? I chose to create a series as a memorial to Holocaust survivors and victims —honoring them and the families who carry their legacies forward.

I attended a Yom HaShoah event where children of Holocaust survivors shared their stories—voices shaped by inherited trauma and resilience.  L’dor v’dor—from one generation to the next—the weight and wisdom of survival are passed down.

Do you ever wonder about the impact of surviving the Holocaust and what it is like to be raised by these traumatized survivors? Hitler and his henchmen silenced their parents before, and I refuse to ignore all their voices here, due to constraints on the length of the blog. Thus, I turned this into a series.

Although these stories are hard to hear, intertwined amongst their telling is a very loud SHOUT of resilience, my parent(s) made it regardless of the weight of a world set against them. Sorry for the vulgarity, but FU to the world that wants to eradicate us.

And the........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)