It’s not over- waiting to breathe
Three people whose lives were cut short by evil, just for being here. But it’s “just” three. Can’t we say it’s done? Three, each one a world. Three, each picture and name engraved on our minds and hearts. One is not Jewish. We mourn him and wait for him, because that’s who we are. Even as the world tells us we’re the evil ones, the monsters, we hold onto what we know- we aren’t. Yes, we train our children to love and respect being warriors, but that’s because we have no choice. As Golda said, if they put down their guns, tomorrow we would have no more war. If we did, tomorrow there would be no more Israel. So here we are, waiting to the last. Why does it matter? Because each person, each one taken and murdered, is not just one. In their lifetimes, they touched others. Family, friends, and now us, the whole nation.
Israelis like to have information. They like to know things, and then to tell you that they know better and here’s what you should know. I remember being a young girl here during the first gulf war. On the day it was over, I had left my apartment early, of course, carrying my gas mask as I was supposed to. All day, so many people stopped me to tell me I didn’t need it, the war was over. As if I didn’t know. But I understand now what I didn’t understand then. They weren’t being obnoxious Israelis- they were relieved beyond measure. It’s over, we can breathe again, go back to “normal”. That’s what each one was saying when they told me that.
Since October 13th, when we got back the last of the living Hostages, I took off the heavy chain around my neck, the one that looks like an army tag. It says in English, Bring Them Home. In Hebrew, it says that our hearts are in Aza- really meaning that our hearts are imprisoned with the hostages, with their families who have been frozen, unable to have lives until they know what happened to their loved ones. I took off the necklace, but started wearing the yellow ribbon pin. This was actually harder, because instead of slipping on a necklace every day, I have had to remember to take it off my shirt the night before and put it on a new one the next day. This pin, this reminder that it’s not over, that there are still many waiting to be able to close the wound so they can start to heal, seemed to bother some people. They said, “You can take that off now.” I said No, it’s not over. To students, other teachers, people on the street or in stores. Which is exactly why I wore it. To remind them, to remind myself, that even as we come close to the final countdown, there are still people crying, waiting, holding their breath.
Last Motzaei Shabbat I went to Kiryat Gat, where those left from Kibbutz Nir Oz, where 1 out of every 4 was either killed or taken hostage, has been staying. They have held a vigil every Saturday night since, I think, November 2023. I haven’t been able to join them often. When I went, someone gave me two yellow pieces of tape, 4118, and 764. The latter was for the days since October 7th, but 4118 is the number of days that Hadar Goldin, Z’l, was held in Gaza, with his family unable to bury him or heal. That yellow tape was the last number for him- he was finally returned to his family and nation the next day. In the past two years, I have often wondered just how much tape has been used as the count went up and up and up, people waiting, stuck in an unending nightmare. I have wondered of that tape was the only thing holding them together, holding us together as a nation. Even as the end approaches, I worry when I see that once again, we are on opposing sides within our nation, and I hope and pray that we will not need another October 7th to bring us back together again.
Last year when I was in Kiryat Gat I bought a yellow ribbon candle holder, and my daughter and I have been lighting it every week, with a prayer to bring the hostages home. I spoke to the lady selling them to raise money for the families. I told her that after the last ones alive returned, I lit a ner zikaron before the holiday- in memory of those lost, in hopes that the last of those there would also be returned to us. I then kept lighting a regular shabbat candle, every week praying it would be the last. She was touched, and gave me a big yellow candle to light this week. It feels like we are close to the end, at least of this chapter. I will light the candle and pray that by it’s light, Hashem will return the last of the kedoshim, Dror Or, Ran Gvilli, and Sudthisak Rinthalak. home, Now.
