Casa de mi Corazón: A Travel Journal of Poetry & Memoir
I Dedicated My Debut Chapbook To Marnie Kimelman & Victims of Terrorism.
May their memories be a blessing.
I was 12-years-old when I was at my aunt Margit’s home in North York, Ontario, Canada, when I overheard her talking to my mom about 17-year-old, Marnie Kimelman, who was murdered on the beaches of Tel Aviv, Israel on July 28, 1990, by Hamas terrorists. (She was also from North York, where I was born and raised.)
How does a young Jewish girl visit Israel on an organized youth trip to learn about her culture, religion, and roots, only to never return home?
Suddenly I had ill feelings towards this place called Israel. A real fear lived inside of me when I thought about ever visiting. I never want to go to Israel. Who would want to ever go there? How did her body come back home? Or would they go there to bury her? Why did they hate us so much?
I walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, pondering my mortality, and all that it meant to be a Jewish Canadian, as the granddaughter of Spanish Moroccan immigrants and Romanian Holocaust survivors. I also thought about what it was like to be a young girl who would never return home.
