I found this picture online- it's round the corner from my house!My car! My little beat-up white car, I love so dearly.
Me and you through thick and thin.
From way back when I was a passenger... then there was my first trip home with my new baby... I remember how you were patient when I became a new driver- and we became firmly attached. And even more patient when I became an educated driver (chutzpah is a must in Jerusalem) - and then a pregnant driver!
You've really been there for us. Taken us all the way to the Chermon, to Eilat, Caesaria, Ashkelon.... Remember when the clutch gave... but we still made it back on the Tel-Aviv highway at 20km\hour?!
And those day when you were so loud, noisy and smelly, I was embarrassed to be seen with you. And your wonderful quirks and dents- darling front door that is NOT allowed to be locked. Period..... if you ever want to get in through the driver's seat again.
All those stressful parking moments and parking tickets (must be around 57 by now)
Remember when we got you a radio! What a joy! Then a cd connector. And when the discman and all my discs were stolen- an iPod connector.. Glory Be!
Well
I prayed for your speedy recovery- it's so good to have you back! Stay with me- I CANNOT be without you!
You have made my Jerusalem life the chill that it is..
And so today- reunited, we cruised along. Sunshine lighting up the city so vividly.
I drive by the tourists, you can spot them a mile away. And I wonder if they know this place.
The way I do.
To live in the ebb and flow of Jerusalem.
How it's not a vacation, a ten-day trip. Or even a one-year experience. Hotels, taxis, Kotel, Dead Sea and Cafe Rimon... Michal Negrin, maybe Emek Refa'im... That must be some other reality...
But this...
When you know the bank security guard. The parking lot security guard- which saves me getting out of the car to open the trunk so they can check (for bombs?!) The cashiers in the supermarket. The gas attendants. The mechanic. The butcher. The quaintest, most adorable coffee spots, and cocktail spots. The (best and fairest) fruit-sellers in Machane Yehuda. The Newspaper-man. Which tiny arbitrary store sells the freshest "loosies" cigarettes. The beggars who frequent this or that particular corner. The traffis lights that you'll never make and the ones you MUST. The meter maids (try make friends to fend off that 58th ticket!) And the real vacation spots where the tourists won't find you.
The glory of the city that's in its every detail.
We breathe this city's air, we know it's every mood..
It's not always particularly inspirational or spiritual..
But it's landscape marks journeys
Journeys of millions, over thousands of years
It's the city that holds my memories, my journeys
Jerusalem, maybe after all these years
You finally are
My home
