Hi, everyone. I am delighted to post a personal history story from Israel! I am putting it first in the English translation, and then in the original language, Hebrew. Please scroll down to see this version, and forgive me for the imperfections in the formating of the Hebrew version-- the site is not used to it and it is fighting me tooth and claw. The story is generously given to us by Nurit Henig.
Nurit was born in Tel Aviv, and was raised in a neighborhood that represented a microcosm of Israeli society in all its complexity. She served in the Israeli Air Force, and then went to the University of Tel Aviv for a degree in literature and theatre studies. After completing her studies, she acted on the stage of the Ohel Theater, one of the first theaters to be founded in Israel, and stayed with it until Ohel was closed a couple of years later. At this point, Nurit started working for the distinguished Israeli Educational Television as a director of children’s programming. Later she
advanced to the position of a producer and an editor. During this time, Nurit enhanced her education by attending the highly regarded Sam Spiegel Film and Television School in Jerusalem where she studied scriptwriting.
By Nurit Henig
In the morning, when Yuda’le was informed that his mother’s condition deteriorated and he must prepare himself for the worst, he became terrified of the thought that his life was about to be changed beyond recognition. Since his retirement, he spent every day with his aging mother at the Healing Home for the Elderly. He had no wife and children; he had abandoned his only hobby, repairing old radio sets, a long time ago. Staying with his mother the entire day saved him from the need – to live.
Following retirement, after settling his mother at the home for the elderly, Yuda’le could have reorganized his life as he wished. For the first time, their small, crowded apartment was his alone, and he could do with it, and with his life, anything he could think of. However he could not clarify to himself what he actually fancied. His old friends either played with their grandchildren or passed away. The television supplied him with the news once a day; for more than that he found no time. He did not go to weddings; only to funerals of his few friends which he did not dare to miss.
Some things take longer than expected, but finally I do have good news on the personal histories front. I have received a fantastic personal history story from a wonderful writer in Israel. I am currently translating it into English, and it will soon be put on the site. I am hoping to place it in the original Hebrew as well as in English, because the language the author has used is beautiful and I don’t want it lost to us; I am sure some of the readers of this site speak and read Hebrew, too. I will present the author’s name and a short biography when I place the story on the site, and I hope to see many comments – since I would love to receive more of her beautiful work, and your comments may persuade her to send it!