“Most importantly... is to return to your normal lives so that the terrorists don't think they can win.” --Jerusalem Mayor, Nir Barkat
I was half-watching the news on the tv behind the receptionist’s head and half-eavesdropping the lady’s conversation next to me when scenes of wailing sirens, blood drenched sidewalk and broken glass flashed across the television screen. The reporter’s urgent and rapid Hebrew was too fast for me to catch.
“What did she say?" I asked DH, eyes glued to the screen.
“A bombing...in Jerusalem,” he said, his voice grave and low.
Moments ago, I was playfully ribbing my husband about his terrible sense of direction and getting us lost once again. Now, my quiet afternoon was ripped apart. My heart sank. I feared for my friends in Jerusalem. I was heartbroken for the victims and their families.
Today’s bombing tore through a busy bus stop in central Jerusalem, injuring 39 and killing one. While the loss of innocent life and injury is first and foremost devastating, the shattering of the 7-year cessation of bombings in Jerusalem was deafening. Every Israeli’s throat tightened as horrific memories of the intifada resurfaced.
As I watched the news, the green number on the front of the Egged bus caught my attention. 74. What do they do tomorrow? What do those people who ride bus 74 everyday back home do tomorrow? What do those people who stand at that bus stop everyday do tomorrow?
They go on. We go on. We continue our lives as normal. Israelis have a determination and resilience that is unrivaled. With blood stains still on the street and heaviness in the nation’s collective heart, the usual evening traffic resumed and I walked into my doctor’s office just as planned.
Today’s sadness will turn into tomorrow’s resolve. They won’t terrorize us. They won’t win.