Tomorrow morning when it's 7:30 in Israel, Joni and I will officially become the parents of a soldier in the Israel Defense Forces. I will worry from thousands of miles away, wonder what he’s doing, how he’s holding up during basic training, wondering where he will go next, hoping that his body and psyche will suffer no harm. I’ll be hoping that he wears a warm hat if needed and gets a good night’s sleep (that part of parenting never goes away).

I will also continue to be so extraordinarily proud.

I told Noah today that our ancestors couldn’t possibly have imagined that one of their descendents would be a citizen of a sovereign Jewish state, let alone serve in their defense forces. When my great-great grandparents made their decision to leave Eastern Europe and come to America, how could they even begin to think that Jews would be in a position to defend themselves from a position of strength; to provide protection and security to both Jews and non-Jews? How could they possibly understand that the wasteland called Palestine would become a modern state, excelling in agriculture, technology and education?

It is likely that Noah’s tour of duty will be shorter than most (he’s an old man of 25), but his contribution to the Jewish people is no less important than any that I have ever made. His two grandfathers and his grandmother of blessed memory, along with thousands of other ancestors, will never know about his courage. But his savta who, thank God, is still alive, along with current family members and those yet to come, will know that Noah Moline is helping us fulfill our dream – l’hiyot am hofshi b’artzeinu – to be a free people in a free land. God bless.