My Cousin Etka: The History of Israel in One Little Old Lady
Etka Holtzberg, a tiny, bubbly, flirtatious, white-haired, slightly hunched over 87-year old woman, is one of the most incredible people I have ever met. She has experienced nearly all that the Jewish people have been dished out in the twentieth century – shtetl, poverty, death, Siberia, Holocaust, Israel, war, terror, kibbutz, disease – and has not only survived, but continues to radiate an enviable joie de vivre. Incredibly, of the four children whom she brought into this world, only one is still alive, though severely injured. Her first child died in infancy, her second child, Meri, was killed in a 1972 El Al hijacking, her third child, Zachi, died ten years ago from Cerebral Palsy, and her fourth child, Avi, now in his fifties, was nearly killed patrolling the northern border. Etka’s husband and mother both died in July 1974, while Avi lay in the hospital.
“I feel strong,” the 4’9” Etka smiles broadly as she inches her head to my face. She can barely see, she needs a device to hear properly, and she has major heart issues. But she tenaciously lives on her own, does her own cooking, makes her own dolls, borscht and jam, and, perhaps a bit frightfully, still zooms around kibbutz in her electric scooter. I suppose if you’ve been living in one place for 59 years, you don’t really need to see in order to get around.
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I sense the entire America is watching women like me – the post-Hillary dejected ones. They want to know whether we will suck it up and vote for Obama or be small-minded and vengeful and vote for McCain. With Hillary out of the race, pundits can go back to classifying us as enablers or delilahs, convenient female roles that demand little depth or independent thought. Yeah, I’m a little depressed.