[img]96|left|Shachar||no_popup[/img]Dateline Jerusalem — I have just finished sitting shiva, the Jewish ritual of mourning for seven days after the burial of an immediate relative, my father, may he rest in peace. I thank all of you who have sent condolences and shared with me your memories of my father.

Normally when I visited my father, whose home is l on one of Florida's inland waterways, I would enjoy the peace and serenity of the flowing water with diving dolphins and the occasional manatee coming up for air, the pelicans and storks and egrets walking on his dock or splashing in the water in search of fish. But this time all I could think of was how happy my Naval officer father must have been living adjacent to the water with his small cabin cruiser docked there in this “mini paradise” he called home.

Yesterday I flew from Florida to New York and then on to Israel, arriving in Tel Aviv just before noon today. As per usual, I was frisked in a separate room before being allowed past security. Each time the search of me was somewhat different. One of the TSA agents said it was because I had a sling on my arm and a support for my foot. But I have been searched before without sitting in a wheelchair or having any kind of sling or support. Another said it was because I wore a long skirt covering my legs. If that were the case, then why isn't every man and woman in long pants searched? Their legs are covered, too.

I told one TSA agent in Florida that Israel has no problems with their flights, and they are not as invasive as TSA. When I mentioned Israel, the TSA agent showed me the goosebumps on her arm. She had never been to Israel but gets goosebumps just thinking about going there. When she finished searching me, the most thorough search to date, she wished me a safe trip back, and hugged me and kissed me on the cheek goodbye! It must have looked weird to all the passengers in line to see a TSA agent hugging and kissing a passenger.

What a Coincidence

When I arrived in New York, because I needed a wheelchair, one of the airport service representatives picked me up as I exited the plane and then proceeded to take me via wheelchair to the next terminal where El Al was. She was excited to hear I was flying to Israel. She told me she was from Jamaica, her father, mother, and mother's father were black Jamaicans, but that her mother's mother and all the women and men prior to her mother's father, were descended from Spanish Jews who escaped during the Inquisition and/or were forced into conversion by the Catholic Church to keep alive. She said her family traced their roots and her mother had relatives in Israel. She was so excited to meet someone (me) living in Israel that she wheeled me all around the International terminal looking for kosher food for me, books to buy for reading on my trip, and finding me a comfortable and safe place to relax during my 10-hour layover in New York. She also cannot wait to take a trip to Israel.

My Israel flight was relatively empty so I was able to stretch out over four seats. When I arrived in Tel Aviv, I was among six people needing assistance. The other five were in their 80s or 90s. We were taken with the flight attendants in a special vehicle directly to passport control. One of the flight attendants carried my luggage and wheeled me outside to a waiting taxi for my trip home. What service!

How great to be back in Israel, where G-d's presence can be felt everywhere. It is the “mini paradise” I call home.

L'hitraot. Shachar