cry with me a little

Last night, I sat on the sofa shortly after Reuven came home. The house was quiet with all the children gone off, or away. At moments like this, our minds can stop churning and start thinking, slowly. And suddenly it hit me:
In January, very soon after I was diagnosed with what looked like a definate death-sentence at the time, I regretted that I had not been to Israel for so long. Our ties there are long and deep and it would be a 'miss' to die without going back. I told Reuven that if I got better, our first trans-Atlantic trip was going to be there.
The last 8 months have been an amazing journey and one does not always have time to stop and truly absorb the experience. Yesterday, we booked our tickets to Israel. And last night, sitting on the sofa, the significance of these tickets began to sink in.
The emotion that sweeps over me when I begin to think of what it means to have bought these tickets is overwhelming. I wouldn't dare try to ennumerate the various aspects of my thoughts and feelings, because they are much greater than my mind can process into words. All I can say is 'cry with me a little' and thank you for my life.