I tipped my worn sneakers as I lifted them from my suitcase, checking for grains of sand from the Tel Aviv Beach visited the day before. Proof. My memories were real and not a dream. Digging further down, I sniffed the zaatar (hyssop), sumac, dried apricots and dates for tea. In my mind, I am hearing bits of Hebrew conversation and a haunting melody of Min haMa’amakim (“From the Depths”) by Idan Raichel. Closing my eyes, I can see the vistas of flowering cacti, cedar groves, and rocky hills – pictures moving in and out of consciousness.
What did it feel like to go to Israel after 17 years? It felt like replenishing a part of my soul that I hadn’t realized had been empty. It felt like I was absorbing a vitality that nourished my cells.
Meryll and I made this trip to Israel to attend the wedding of our...



