With Succos followed swiftly on the heels by my knee issue, I never really got a chance to blog about the release of Gilad Shalit in exchange for over 1,000 Palestinian prisoners. The truth is that I never really have to blog at all because A Soldier's Mother pretty much says what I'm thinking and feeling down to the last comma and period, and after I read her posts I often feel that nothing else needs to be said. This post of her's of the day of Gilad's release was particularly on the mark for me.
Gilad is home. He's sleeping between his own sheets in his own bed, and waking up to the sounds of his loving family surrounding him, and I'm sure lots and lots of home cooking. But it's not over. Not for Gilad and not for us. He has shown tremendous strength and resilience, but I can't imagine the long term effects of such a horrible ordeal, and I'm sure that for Gilad the nightmare is not yet over.
My 2nd grader and I were talking recently. He was very "into" the part in his davening where they were praying for "Gilad Ben Aviva Shalit", and when he got back to school he told me that the Morah had a long talk with them about how Gilad is home, BH! and how we don't have to daven for him anymore. I'm not so sure. I'm sure that Gilad can use all the prayers we still have to offer.
And so could we. It's far from over for us. You've seen the videos and the news clips about the first wave of prisoners (would they please stop calling them that when they are actually criminals, terrorists and murderers?) being returned to their homes and families. You've seen the way they celebrated by throwing rocks at the IDF soldiers and civilians alike, by parading their children around with machine guns in the streets. And I'm sure you've seen those stupid, asinine, self satisfied smirks and grins that accompany the promises of more killings, more terrorism, more of our children kidnapped.
So no, it's not over. Not for Gilad and not for us by a long shot.