Yehudit Weiss
Yehudit was born in the HaTivkvah neighborhood of Tel Aviv to Shoshana and Ya’akov Kaminer. She was the eldest of five children. Her mother was a homemaker, while her father was an ironworker, who was often sent to work away from home for long periods. From an early age, Yehudit took on some parental duties, taking care of her younger brothers and sisters. However, even then she had clear priorities: when she went to school with money for a sandwich, she would skip her lunch, and go to the beach. When she grew up, she wanted to join a Nahal unit, but was concerned about leaving her siblings. Her aunt Sarah encouraged her to join the Nahal unit, as otherwise “there will be nothing left of you”. Yehudit recounted that this was the moment that she chose life.
She met Shmulik in the Nahal unit. They underwent their training together on Kibbutz Gilgal and became a couple during a trip to the Sinai desert. They got married on Gilgal, which was where Hagar, their eldest daughter, was born. They moved from Gilgal to Kibbutz Erez, where their son Asaf was born. The family was joined there by Avishai, Yehudit’s younger brother. They arrived in Be’eri in 1991, with Yehudit being hired as a kindergarten teacher. After two years they became kibbutz members. Omer, Daniel and Ohad were born in Be’eri. Shmulik began a long career working in the garage, and Yehudit continued working in the kindergarten for a while. However, Yehudit continued developing over the years: she was put in charge of the communal dining room, went on to earn a degree in public administration, and then got a Mster’s in Business Management and Economics at Ben Gurion University. She took on the responsibility of coordinating nursing and care for the elderly at Be’eri. She worked for some time at ‘Amal’ before returning to work in Be’eri managing Welfare Services on the kibbutz. After a while she decided to limit the emotional involvement in her work with her kibbutz community, by moving her job over to managing Welfare Services on Kibbutz Revivim, until she retired.
Retirement opened up new opportunities for Yehudit. She celebrated. She kept a tight schedule. In order to manage it, she color-coded her Google diary to include all of her activities: there was a set day for each of her children and babysitting the grandchildren. She also had many hobbies and pleasurable engagements. Every Tuesday she went to the movies in Tel Aviv or spent time in Ashkelon with two girlfriends. But family always came first: Yehudit answered every call from home. On that Black Saturday, Omer and his wife Zemer had called Yehudit at 3am, to ask her advice about their son who had a high fever, and before they managed to consult with the doctor on call, Yehudit had set out over to their home.
Yehudit and Shmulik had a marriage made in heaven, true love. In the evenings they could be seen nodding off in front of the television, side by side, heads on each other’s shoulders. They loved spending time together: going on trips, watching plays, spending time with friends. Shmulik delighted in pampering her with the jewelry that she loved. They never raised their voices in arguments and conducted their family life with deep mutual respect. They did everything together, sharing their tasks, aside from cooking and baking. Yehudit made sure to make jachnun for each shabbat, and pastries filled with dates, halva or chocolate spread, cakes made to order for each grandchild, and for friends too. It was their tradition for Shmulik always to make a comment, and for Yehudit to laugh and accept it. Yehudit was a very involved mother and grandmother, without interfering. She only gave advice when she was asked for it. As a devoted grandmother, she went on trips with her grandchildren, singing them songs about the good old days in Israel; she bought them treats and took them to classes and plays.
Shmulik and Yehudit established a warm home, full of family and friends, and people they took under their wing, like hired workers on the kibbutz, female soldiers, and others. She knew how to give everyone warmth, confidence, optimism, time, and attention. At the same time, she always managed to keep some private space for herself - to express herself, consult with people she was close to, like Rafi and Tali, and also to take walks around the kibbutz, go to the gym and the swimming pool, participate in folk dancing, sing in a choir and to read books. She would read quickly, always two or three books at the same time – on her cellphone, her iPad, and also traditional "real" books.
Yehudit discovered she had cancer by chance, a few months before her death, as she had been pushed into going for tests. When she received the results, she said that everything seemed black to her, but then she decided to take the diagnosis lightly. She conveyed to everyone that everything would be fine. She even flew off for a trip before her surgery. Her children say, “She loved life, took pleasure in enjoying her life, and made sure that everyone around her enjoyed their lives too.” Even on Black Saturday, she made sure not to make anyone worry, and sent calm, reassuring messages.
She was 65 years old when she died. We still do not know exactly when she was murdered, how her life ended, what she knew or didn’t know about Shmulik and about the large family she left behind her.
Yehudit was an optimistic woman who loved life, loved being active, enjoyed the large and small pleasures of life, travel, family and friends. She was a mother who enveloped everyone in her “tenderness and love”, endlessly devoted to her children and grandchildren, a tower of strength, inspirational in her choices for a good life; for her humanity, for her belief in goodness and her ability to grow from life’s hardships.
Her children, her daughters in law, and her grandchildren want to tell you: We are alive; we choose life, like you did.
May your memory be a blessing.
