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Leon was eager to make the move but I didn’t want to leave Gitta, who had so recently been widowed. We debated a long time before deciding. And for a long time after we decided, I couldn’t bring myself to tell my sister that we’d applied to go. When she found out, she was heartbroken. One of the things that made leaving a little easier for me was the fact that Gitta had begun seeing Moshe Greizerstein, the man who was to become her second husband. They had mutual friends in Tel Aviv, where they had met. Moshe would come visit Gitta in Kfar Saba and bring Eva and Rick boxes of sweets and take them for long car rides. They liked him. Because of U.S. immigration quotas, Leon, the kids and I weren’t allowed to leave Israel together. Leon went first — in the summer of 1959 — while I stayed behind for five months with the children, liquidating and organizing things and waiting for my papers from Chicago. The kids missed him very much. Eva would wake in the middle of the night, crying, “I want my daddy,” in Hebrew. Before Leon left for Chicago, he’d sold his almost-brand-new, red Java motorcycle. One day, when the kids and I were out walking in Kfar Saba, the man who’d bought the motorcycle went riding by us on the Java. Eva and Rick ran after him, shouting that he had their daddy’s motorcycle.
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