There is a feeling I get every time I read of terror attacks, or missile strikes, or stabbings, shootings, rock throwings, etc. I don't have a word for it - I don't think one exists.
It's a mixture of sadness, anger, hopelessness, and a yearning to be there with them. During Operation Amud Anan I slept perhaps three hours a night, pacing, constantly refreshing the news sources I was following, and kept thinking of how much I wanted to be there, on the front lines. It made no sense (I am perhaps one of the more scaredy-cat people I know, and am even afraid of roller coasters), and there is NOTHING I can do on a practical level about the attacks, but that was how I felt.
There are reports of rock throwings near Ariel that have critically injured (possibly killed) a mother and her children. I am feeling this "Feeling X" again.
The ongoing saga of our family's Aliyah.
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