I am exhausted and my heart is heavy. Even though I mentally prepared myself for the sirens, and heard from family and friends how difficult it is to survive a night of rushing to the mamad, nothing truly prepares you for the reality of it.

We are lucky to have a bunker in our building, and our apartment is on the first floor, which helps. I had schlepped down my cashmere blanket, a small water bottle, a siddur, Tehillim, and my phone the night before, all waiting next to my bed. I slept in a dress; there was no way I would appear in a robe and slippers in front of fellow tenants. Even in the middle of the night, in the middle of a war, dignity matters.

In the early hours of the morning the sirens went off. Three times they pierced the quiet, though only once did we truly need to rush to the bunker. The other two were warnings, and we waited........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)