A touch of reality on Yom Kippur

At 17.00 Sunday evening we entered Yom Kippur, with 24 hours of quietness. No cars in the streets, no TV, no radio and only slow activities. A few hours later in the evening, we suddenly heard a military aircraft in the air and I looked at Yoram, who looked very surprised. A moment later, another one crossed the sky above us, breaking the silence with its deafening noise. At this point we both had a peculiar feeling that something was wrong and Yoram explained that previously he had only heard aircrafts in the sky one time before on Yom Kippur, upon which I immediately understood that he was referring to 1973 and the Yom Kippur war, where an Arab coalition led by Egypt and Syra initiated a surprise attack on Israel on the holiest day in Judaism. A third aircraft passed and at this point we were checking if any media network had resumed broadcast to distribute any fatal news, but this was not the case. Things went quiet again and everything was over.

We still don't know what happened, but it must have been something important if they send up aircrafts on Yom Kippur. Either it had to do with rockets fired from Gaza, which still occurs on a regular basis, or it had to do with the test firing of missiles in Iran, conveniently planned for the Jewish holiday. Whatever the reason, it gave me a healthy reconnection to reality. Not that I am living in some ignorant bliss - I am always very aware of the progress of this situation - but anyway it still made the conflict feel much more close and real. I started thinking of what I would do if, G*d forbid, a war broke out. Would I stay, or would I exploit my privilege as a Swede to be evacuated, and so on. I don't think I would want to leave. We all have a destiny, and this is mine.