The Day When Mothers Cried
Mothers cry a lot. They cry for themselves. They cry for their children. They cry for other people’s children. They cry when tragedy strikes anywhere in the world, because they know. They know that any tragedy takes away someone’s child, someone’s precious son, someone’s beloved daughter. Some other mother’s baby. When disaster hits, every baby is our own. Every baby is valued and loved beyond measure. Even if the baby is 23 and has a beard.
On October 7, 2023, a horrific tragedy made all mothers cry tears of anguish and helplessness. The young people at Nova music festival in Israel were someone’s children, and thus – our children too. We cried for the hundreds who were killed and many more who were injured. We continue to shed tears for the civilians taken hostage, deep into the Gaza underbelly, and deep into our hearts.
We have been holding these innocent souls close and dear in our chest for over 11 months now. We have been praying for their safety; we have been praying for them to be well or at least not terribly hurt; we have been wishing for the women to not be violated; we have been wishing for the men to not be beaten. We have prayed for the safety of the babies and the small children who have celebrated birthdays in captivity. We have prayed for the elderly, who are everyone’s grandparents.
One person’s life is not intrinsically more valuable than another’s, but one family has been at the forefront of advocating for the swift release of all hostages – the Goldberg-Polin family. Yes, you have seen them. Yes, you know who they are. Their son – Hersh Goldberg-Polin – was one of the young men abducted from the Nova music festival, and has become the unofficial face of the hostage crisis, while his parents Rachel and Jon became the lead advocates. Crisscrossing the globe, Rachel and Jon met with any world dignitaries who would listen, spoke at rallies and political conventions, held audiences with religious leaders, and were guest speakers at the UN. All parents say they would go to the ends of the earth for their children. Rachel and Jon Goldberg-Polin did. Though we wish they didn’t have to.
These parents did not want to be a part of a movement. They did not care for their son’s face to be plastered on posters around the world. They were not seeking fame. All they wanted was to bring their boy home, along with over 100 other hostages.
We know how this story ended for this family. It ended with a mother crying. Because mothers cry a lot. It ended with mothers around the world crying – for Hersh, for his parents Jon and Rachel, for his sisters, for the other five hostages killed with Hersh, and for all of humanity. Just when we thought a hostage negotiation deal was so close; just when the Israeli Defense Forces were zeroing in on the hostages’ location for a rescue operation; just when, just when, just when…
Rachel Goldberg-Polin is just a mother. Like millions of us. She is us. We are her. Her son is our son. On the day her heart broke, all our hearts broke. The day her son was murdered was the day that mothers cried, together, collectively, regardless of political or religious affiliations. All mothers know tragedy. We feel it in our bones. But this story did not have to have a tragic ending. All mothers awaited a happier outcome – an outcome in which Hersh Goldberg-Polin would “finally, finally, finally, finally” return to his family. He didn’t. He won’t. May his memory be a revolution.
