Day 42
We're almost there. It's almost October 8th.
As I write this (9:40pm on 10/12), I keep checking my phone, waiting for the confirmation that they're home. That they're safe. שהם בארץ. (that they're in the land [Israel])
It's odd, after spending two years knowing this awful truth, I don't know what to think. Bringing as many hostages home, alive, seemed impossible. A dream that only the fools held onto as the rest of the world forgot about them. I promise you: we did not. The sancity of human life is paramount in Judaism. Not for one minute, one second, were they not at the forefront of our minds (I can't say the same for Bibi).
The world was turned upside down on October 7th. And when it's finally October 8th, we aren't returning to the world of October 6th. That world is long gone.
I know too much about how former friends think of me and my people. I know how former coworkers shared blantantly antisemitic misinformation online. I know that people I trusted with my heart were never actually worthy of that honor.
It wouldn't be fair to call it a crueler world. Yes, I learned that the world is far more unkind than I believed, but I also found so much love and hope. Love for my people and my heritage, hope in even the darkest of moments. It's not a better world or a darker world. It's a different world.
But here I am, sitting and complusively checking my phone after each and every paragraph. Waiting for the news of a safe transfer. Tomorrow, I hope I wake up to the videos of families reuniting. Tomorrow, I hope I cry happy tears for the first time in a long time.
The return of the hostages cannot undo the past two years. There is no going back but finally, finally, we can start moving forward. This perpetual October 7th can end.
Tomorrow night begins Shemini Atzeret. I'll visit a friend's house for a meal, host one of my own. When the sun sets on Tuesday, it'll be Simchat Torah. I'll go with friends and dance, joyful and alive. I'll carry the grief of what we've lost, but I'll sing till my voice is gone.
ניצחנו, we have won. The cost of this victory is unimaginably heavy, but we will be on the other side. The moutain has been climbed, the summit has been found. The descent is upon us, and it often the most difficult part of the hike. But for one day, we will rejoice. ve’samachta be’chagecha, ve’hayita ach sameach: you shall rejoice in your festival, and you will only be happy.
I'm so excited for October 8th. I'll see you there.
it’s finally october 8th. i’m so happy.
if it’s meaningful to you, say a shechiyanu.
chag sameach, everyone.
עם ישראל חי.












