Living with Rockets: The depths of anxiety

I always get a little shaken up when I visit a family traumatized by a rocket attack. Today is no different, as I visit the Amar family, whose home was hit last Thursday. The first thing I see when I visit their home is Aliza Amar, the owner, sitting in a wheelchair at the entrance. Aliza looks sad and forlorn, even as neighbors come by to wish her a quick recovery.

Aliza was hospitalized for almost four days for injury and shock. She explains to me that because she is physically handicapped, she has difficulty escaping to the bomb shelter when the siren sounds. So when a rocket hit the Amar home on Thursday afternoon, December 13, Aliza, in her wheelchair could not reach the shelter in time. "The force of the rocket fall blew me off the chair, into that kitchen wall", says Aliza, as I walk into their home.

It is a site of complete devastation. The ceiling over the kitchen has completely collapsed. The sunlight pours through, illuminating a basket of orange tangerines covered with dirt and dust. Debris covers the entire kitchen floor. A family photo lies nearby, its frame and glass broken into pieces.

"Everything went black, and the next thing I know is that I am lying in the hospital in shock."

As Aliza speaks, her nine-year old daughter, Adi tightly holds her mother's hand. I ask her how she feels to have her mother back home but the girl does not respond. Her older brother, Moshe, is quick to explain that from all his siblings, Adi suffers the most from anxiety attacks. "Every time, the siren sounds, Adi runs to those photos of tzadikkim (righteous rabbis) on the walls, and kisses them, hoping they will keep her safe," says Moshe.

Adi remains quiet to the very end of my visit. Her eyes, however, express the fear and uncertainty of her family's situation, in the face of further rocket fire.