A Sight for Sore Eyes

Two nights ago Karen and I spent a few hours holding Emma’s hand at an emergency clinic in Tel Aviv. She had been vomiting the whole day, and by then she was quite dehydrated. Watching your kid cry her eyes out when a doctor sticks an IV drip into her wrist is as painful as it gets.
Thank G-d she’s OK now…
Another sight for sore eyes was a nice old lady sitting next to us in the nurse’s room.
Turns out it was Yael Dayan.
The first thing that popped into mind was: “Wow, she’s aged”.
She looked so frail. So tired.
I don’t know why she was there. I didn’t ask, of course. Although I must say, I was tempted to go over and tell her what a fan I am. Tell her that there’s really no one out there who puts up a fight anymore, like she used to. Like Yossi Sarid used to, like Shulamit Aloni used to.
But I knew better than that.
So, I just looked at her as she sat and held her cane while patiently waiting for the doctor.
“She shouldn’t be here”, I thought. As if she shouldn’t be here with all us common people. After all she’s done, after all the battles she fought. I felt like she should be getting the celebrity treatment. She deserves it.
“She looks like the Left does these days”, I said to Karen.
It sounded so cliché.
But that’s the thing about clichés, I guess, there’s always some truth to them…
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