THE NAME OF THE GAME

 One of the most favorite and enjoyable series of movies and plays is that of Mamma Mia! Yes, of course, there are lessons to be made and taken to heart, but mostly it is just the music which grabs  hold of the listener and is carried out from the theater, the tune already familiar in mind and soul. That is why people go and see this, again and again, with entire audiences singing along, with no one telling another, singing in full voice, to keep quiet. 

 One of those famous songs is The Name of the Game. In some presentations, it has been sung defiantly and powerful. In others, it's been presented as a sad commentary on life, it's rather nasty negativity. It defeats those who wish simply to enhance their lives Most of all, to have a companion to share it with whomever that companion might be.

Life indeed, the rather convoluted ever disappointing, ever surprising life. We all know the famous maxim, that into every life, a little rain must fall. Even in the worst of circumstances that rain, the changes, the little things in life, can give one a moment of victory, of triumph over evil, a well-deserved back at ya! 

However, at times those gentle rains, that bit of moisture so necessary to life, morphs into a rain of overwhelming proportions, threatening to drown us and all we hold dear. How is it? Why is it? Too many times, certainly in the past millennia and now, these storms boding no good, from and for humanity, have returned in frightening deluges. These rains have turned harsh, shredding skin and bones, razing hearts and souls of all involved, there being no good side to it at all.

As I sit here in pursuit of completion of the blog, setting aside all distractions, we get via phone. a notification one never wants to get. Disturbing as it should be to all, but it's certainly of far greater consequence to me and my family as one of our own now sits in the midst of a battlefield between terrorists and Israeli forces, well into the land of Israel. And therein sits a beloved relative, an integral family member, more like a spine holding us all together. Once unknown, we were family from the time she was seven, through the years, from a part of the family we had never known. A family more intact, more optimistic, for despite all that our enemies had thrown at us, we had survived.

What is it that makes people want to kill? What is it that gives them ease to actually take the life of one living being, or more than one or two, or the more the better. Yes, it is at this time that those who bleed for the Palestinians, including, unfortunately, some misguided, misshapen minds of our own Jewish people who never cry for our own. But where are the tears for our own? True

Why not for all friends and family caught in the crosshairs? Our friends and family. There are not many of us who truly delight in the deaths of Palestinian, in the sight of children crying for their parents, or parents seeking their children. But that must be said with a caveat. These same people, these Palestinians now crying -well, for what and for whom? You, those doing this, are the very same ones who have enabled, allowed Hamas to take their souls, to regenerate and reformat their hearts and to convince them, threaten them, with whatever works, to allow military caches to be laid beneath the cribs of their children. To allow tunnels to be dug beneath their homes with access within their living rooms. Who have perverted the uses of schools, of hospitals, of community centers to induce more hate. To hide from their just desserts. To keep down below those they have stolen and hid away.  

Why did they allow this to happen? Why did they not seize control? With enough people making a fist one can beat back many more. The same way in which the people of Israel formed fists needed to beat back foes intent on their destruction. When our people cried for family and friends, for our losses, where was the sympathy of even a one on that side? Their tears and cries for a lost child were for their inability to kill more, take more with them, with the promise that the rest of her children will do the same.  

Within this little country, Israel, we are all family. We know them, or a friend, for we are all connected within the tiny but powerful grapevine of communication, particularly of loss. We share in the joys and the tears, line the highways of the nation to honor those lost, to welcome the returned.  Day after day, year after year, the same attacks, the same lies, the same crooked name of the game which hurts all engaged within its complexities.  

I will end this here today, for my emotions are high.

Thankfully, the game is over for today for us as the terrorist was captured and our loved one is safe.

For now.

The Ugly Name of the Game.

Yesterday, today and tomorrow.

When does it end? 

And as I sit here, g take a new detour to some puzzles with the paper today We get a notice when I flown about yet another terrorist attack This one took place near Calhavia When terrorists was at the Kilbo captured, unfortunately, We already lost one of our own The other terrorist is being sought. Why is this so disturbing to me? Well, first of all all these attacks are disconcerting and concerning How do they get in Generally causing a field in disguise illegal workers and a cooperating whatever. It is now affected me personally. As one of my family was loved a special woman is now in the midst of a battlefield