Israelis grapple with grief on Memorial Day
The weekend before Yom HaZikaron, or Israel Memorial Day, Sarah and Ehud Schwartz attended a retreat hosted by OneFamily, an organization that serves victims of terror and those who have lost loved ones in military conflict. Despite knowing that their children must enlist in the IDF, the sting of learning that your son or daughter has been killed in combat is visceral. The Schwartz family lost their son Segev Schwartz, a 20-year-old IDF soldier stationed at the Sufa outpost in Gaza on October 7th. As Ehud talks about Segev you can hear the pain in his voice. It’s more than grief; it’s also the weight of the question almost every Israeli is asking – when will it end?
“War is bad for everybody,” Ehud says talking about both Israelis and Palestinians. “War wasn’t for him. He loved peace and I’m sure he didn’t kill anybody.”
Losing a son is not political
Segev was a fighter in the Nahal Brigade’s 50th Battalion, who was killed on October 7th. Sergeant Schwartz was injured in the leg during the Hamas attack on Sufa outpost. He was told to shelter in the cafeteria where other soldiers were establishing a defensive position. While there, a terrorist threw a grenade in a very tight space with many other soldiers. Two others tossed the grenade away from themselves, but when it landed next to Segev, he chose to leave it there, sacrificing his life and saving 30 fellow soldiers that day. After telling the story of his death Sarah looks back on how Segev touched the lives of those around him.
“My son was so full of joy. He magnetized the lives of those around him because of his optimism and happiness,” she says. “People treated him like their own brother. He was very kind and valued friendship. People would say he managed to unite us like glue.”
This year, soldiers are unable to visit the graves of their fallen comrades due to serving in the army, making Yom HaZikaron difficult. In addition to the ongoing war, there are 59 hostages still in Gaza, though there is speculation less than 24 are still alive. You can see the stress on Sarah’s face as she speaks about the situation.
“I feel terrible. I want the whole world to wake up and start to realize who we are dealing with,” Sarah says referring to Hamas. “Once they understand I think more will be done.’
Sarah is referring to the criticism Israel is receiving for the October 7th counter attacks. According to the Palestinian Ministry of Health in Gaza at least 1,928 Palestinians, including 500 children, have been killed in Gaza since the ceasefire was broken on March 18. As the death toll soars with a new wave of bombings, it has become apparent that everyone – in some form- is suffering. The sentiment of many Israelis is that they have lost too, and Sarah is no different.
“Of course, I feel sorry for them,” she says describing Palestinian mothers. “A mother is a mother. We have to value lives and we shouldn’t put religion in front us that says we have to sacrifice our kids for religion. My son sacrificed himself to save lives, not in terms of religion.”
It’s a complicated reality and OneFamily is able to intervene to help families grapple with a loss that has become entangled with world politics. For Sarah and Ehud there is nothing political about losing their youngest son, and Sarah says One Family provided her with the tools to handle her emotions in a healthy way.
“These three days was like preparing me for Memorial Day, without this retreat I don’t think I would be able to survive,” she says. “I came to the retreat feeling anxious, down and crying all day long. In the moments that they hugged me and surrounded me I felt better.”
Dealing with unwavering anger
Lara Metodi, a former cast member on Big Brother Israel, stands in front of a group of journalists in Tel Aviv trying not to choke on her anger. She lost her son Staff Sergeant Nitai Metodi in the current war and as she speaks her strong voice cracks. Originally from Durban, South Africa, Lara immigrated to Israel to help progress the Palestinian cause. Her goal was to fight the injustice faced by the Palestinians and to shield her children from the racism that lingered after apartheid. Since losing a son in the current war her feelings have changed.
“I’ve lost my patience with them,” she says. “I have lost all respect for them.”
Nitai served for five years in the army in fighting and was on holiday in Australia. But the moment the attacks on October 7 happened he decided to return to Israel and enlisted in the reserves. She begged Nitai to stay in Australia, but he wasn’t prepared for his unit to go into battle without him. After he went into training there was no communication from him for two months.
“As a mother your heart breaks not hearing from your son for two months,” Metodi says. “We value our lives and the lives of our children. Gazans have no problem coming to the border with their child in their arms to use them as human shields. We are wired differently.”
Nitai did eventually make it home in one piece and went to Paris to visit his girlfriend. However, when he returned to Israel, as a military leader, he went into battle again and on August 23rd stepped on a bomb inside of a house and was killed instantly.
“I came to this country to protect my children and I failed,” Metodi says. “They have destroyed us; I will never recover from this.”
Like the Schwartz family, for Metodi losing a son isn’t about politics. She wants the world to know that they are just human beings who wanted to see their kids “wake up every day, go to the army and study.” She insists her anger it’s not towards Arabs, but it’s about Hamas she says following with “They don’t want peace.”
“If there is hope for the people of Gaza they have to destroy Hamas,” she emphasizes. “If this happened in America it wouldn’t have got further than two weeks – America wouldn’t have asked permission for anything.”
Nitai was the 698th IDF soldier killed on and after October 7th and now Lara shares the same grief with almost 3,000 other IDF families who have lost their loved ones since Black Saturday. Her therapy is “talking about her son until she can’t talk anymore,” and telling outsiders about her perspective on the war. For others like Ehud Schwartz, he deals with his grief by honoring the memory of his son as the war rages on.
“I am broken and sometimes I cry, but I continue with life,” Ehud says. “War is a bad life, but we must get the hostages back home. Anybody would want this war to be finished.”
