Chapter 5 Family and Routine

T he romance between Dubi and me began in the summer of 1962. I remember as if it were yesterday. It began with a meaningful exchange of looks as we passed each other on the lawn in front of the Mossad dining hall during summer vacation. Dubi had just left the hall and I had gotten up from the grass and was going in for lunch.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" he asked jokingly, changing direction to join me even though he had finished eating. He sat down next to me at the table and talked excitedly about the wonderful time he had had at Kibbutz Kinneret. All of us in Snunit knew about his love for Lake Kinneret and that he often spent time on the shores of the lake thanks to his sister-in-law's being a member of Kibbutz Kinneret before she was married.

"Why did you come back after only one week?" I asked.

Dubi looked around, lowered his voice in secret sweetness, and said, "I missed you." I was surprised and didn't grasp his meaning. Until then there had been nothing between us that hinted at longing or a romantic relationship. During the many years we were roommates, we would argue about the use of the small room during our free time. I insisted on practicing the violin, and Dubi insisted on resting in his bed while I played.

At that time, Dubi was studying at the ORT School in Afula, a nearby city. He would get up earlier than the rest of us and ride his bicycle to school. Our paths almost never crossed during the rest of the Mossad activities because he didn't care for the music that filled my life ? which is why his confession of longing during that midday summer hour didn't receive an enthusiastic response from me. Still, it made me think. There was one sign, however: Our Friday night meals ended in the dining room with folkdancing. Dubi never joined in, claiming that he didn't know how to dance, but he would remain in the dining room, sitting and watching me as I danced non-stop. His powerful stare pierced every fiber of my being as he followed my movements with his eyes. Now he had become my persistent suitor and even crafted on a wooden veneer a picture of a couple dancing – and gave it to me as a gift. This treasure still adorns the wall in our bedroom.

By the time we finished our studies at the Mossad, we were an established couple. For the 12th grade graduation party, I embroidered a beautiful cross-stitch shirt for him, the kind that was in vogue at the time. I spent hours sewing the golden sheaves of oats onto a black "Russian Pioneers" shirt. Dubi was very proud of the shirt, even though he wore it maybe twice; to this day, the shirt is kept in the closet as a souvenir. At the end of the 12th grade, we moved from the Mossad to live in the soldiers' barracks area of the kibbutz. The new dining hall that was built to the west of it made the area intimate and isolated. As there wasn't enough living space, two girls had to share a room as did the boys ? except for Dubi, who volunteered to accept a tiny room, long and narrow, with space for a single bed. No more than that was needed for privacy…

Two toilet stalls and a sink were built on at the end of the neighborhood, but no showers. Like my parents at that time, I showered in the common showers near the laundry. There were no complaints; the rows of barracks were deserted most of the time. Most of my group mates were in the army, and I spent the weekdays at the Oranim Teachers' Seminar. On weekends, the neighborhood came alive, full of fun from the soldiers who had come for Shabbat. We would all get together and exchange impressions of the week's events, sharing experiences over a cup of coffee and a cigarette.

During the years that Dubi was in the army and I was at the seminar, we managed to see each other quite a few times. He would wander in from the base and come to see me regularly. My classmates called him "the determined suitor in uniform," an impressive and prominent figure in the seminar's otherwise female environment.

Our relationship was a continuous, persistent courtship with ups and downs over the years. My parents – and especially my father, for whom I was a precious and carefully guarded treasure – weren't completely pleased with the match. On a kibbutz, where everyone grows up together and knows everything about everyone else, it's very difficult to get rid of the labels that have been attached to you. Dubi was known as a boy who loved hanging out on the kibbutz lawns, chasing butterflies, climbing trees, and rescuing chicks that fell out of their nests. Over the years, he became an outstanding athlete and a competitive sportsman through and through. He wasn't focused on his education until he began studying at ORT in Afula, from which he graduated. Thanks to his skillful hands and the technical ability he was blessed with, he was highly regarded. Towards the end of his military service, we submitted a request to the kibbutz for a shared room, which was acceptable and possible even before marriage. Soon afterwards, we received the sought-after double room in the soldiers' section.