A Holiday and a Day of Heartbreak: One After the Other
What's going on with ceasefire?
Today I share with you a sampling of Israeli voices speaking of all Israel has been through in the last two weeks. It’s tough for our minds to get that our world really changed so significantly in such a short amount of time, and yet, we know it— we feel it in the exhaustion in our bodies and in the mix of wonder and sadness in our hearts. We want to celebrate, and we should, and we will but… wow. It’s not simple at all.
I hope what I share below will you give you a real sense of what is going in people’s minds and hearts in the aftermath of these potent days.
Yuval Elbashan is an author, lawyer and academic. I personally had not heard of him till yesterday when I found this column that was printed in Yedioth Ahronoth, that expresses what I think a lot of us are feeling:
“Today is a holiday for us. Yesterday, Operation Rising Lion ended with amazing achievements for Israel. An existential threat that had hovered over our heads for decades has been removed. The barrier of fear that made us fear an impending war with our most dangerous enemy has been breached. The strategic alliance with the world's greatest power – the United States – has reached a peak never seen before. And all of this at the ridiculous military cost of losing a UAV or maybe two. The damage to the home front is indeed very heavy - 29 dead, thousands injured, and much destruction, but it is also very far (about 5 percent) from the most optimistic estimates (of what might be) presented in the past.
“Today is a holiday for us. After years in which our responses were measured and cautious for fear of escalation, we have returned to the offensive stance. Anyone who remembers the days of "silence will be answered in silence" and the paralysis that gripped us just 20 months ago understands the long way we have come, not only operationally but also - and perhaps mainly - in terms of internal consciousness. The barriers of fear surrounding entering into Gaza, from fighting Hezbollah and, as mentioned, from war with Iran, have been removed one after another, teaching us how true in our region the well-known Arab proverb that "he who ties a rope around his neck, will soon be dragged by it" and we, who have tied many ropes around our necks, have allowed our opponents to drag us for too long.
“Today is a holiday for us. Precisely because this road was conquered with the blood of hundreds of heroes and heroines in uniform who sacrificed their lives in the war of iron swords, and thanks to them, it was possible to attack Iran without fear of its convoys hanging on fences around it. Alongside them are thousands of fighters who were wounded in body and soul and hundreds of civilians who were injured on the front-line. It is also for their sake that we should celebrate reaching the milestone yesterday, because without their sacrifice we would not have reached this point. Their sacrifice and death were not in vain.
“Today is a holiday for us. The celebration is required not only as a moral duty towards the heroes of wars in our past, but also for the benefit of the future. The joy of victory is essential not because the war is over, but precisely because it is very far from over. In order for us to have enough strength of mind to continue on the path, which will still have moments of crisis and defeats, it is important to celebrate the victories that have been gathered so far. Each one is an acute injection of fuel into the national engine that never stops. The celebration does not indicate frivolity nor, most certainly, disdain for the challenges of the future (including the very near future), but on the contrary – it constitutes an acute tool for renewing the mental strength of a people who seek a better future for themselves. Belief in such a future is based on belief in one’s self, and such belief is created through the kind of successes that have been achieved in numerous amounts over the past year and a half, and especially in the past 12 days. In this sense, success constitutes an excellent jumping-off point for a better future. Therefore, not only are we allowed to celebrate the victory, we must do so.
“Happy Holiday, Israel.”
I really believe we need to take that in. Stop. Let it sink in. And only then go on. Because…
Literally five hours after the writer of the above celebratory column shared it on his Facebook page, he posted this:
“It was a short holiday. Too short.”
Despite the incredible gains Israel had genuinely achieved, we were met with heartbreaking news— one of the highest one-day death tolls we’ve seen until now. The war in Gaza is ongoing, and these young men, their families, all those who knew and loved them, and all of us, are yet again paying the price.
This war is long and the price is steep. And in these days following the ceasefire we are also remembering those we lost. Miraculously, and it really is miraculous, the number of those who died stands at 29. But those, of course, are 29 worlds lost.
Considering what might have been— and as Yuval wrote above even the most optimistic estimates of the cost of Israel’s attack on Iran predicted much worse— 29 lives, 29 faces, 29 names, 29 stories is a lot to grasp.
Here is one story, of three people who died together. This is an abridged version of a post Elyasaf Ezra wrote about his friends, Michal, Eitan and Noa.
Every human being's first love is their mom.
She brought him the greatest gift that can be given, life.
Every human being's second love is their true love.
She brought him the second greatest gift that can be given, a life partner.
Today, these two loves met death.
Mother and son.
A boy and girl.
Michal, her son Eitan, and his partner Noa.
One man, two loves.
Two women, one love…
Eitan enlisted in the army to be a fighter, a commando fighter.
A position with great risk, with a great chance of death. I assume he took that into account. But he probably didn't think it would come to his home, and not on the battlefield…
Remember Michal, Eitan, and Noa.
Do something in their memory, light a candle or read a Psalm to lift their souls, engrave their faces in your memory, memorize their story, share in their sorrow, but really, remember their lives, not just their deaths.
Two loves with one heart.
And there are the heroes of the war. The air force pilots, of course, and every single person- from technician to commander- who were an essential part of the success of their mission. I shared a translation of one pilot’s account in a recent Substack Note.
And there are the simpler heroes. Those who acted because it was their job to do so, and those who acted even though it wasn’t, like Dolev.
From Yedioth Aharonoth :
"It happened at 4:20 in the morning. A friend from the US was sleeping at my house, I called him from the living room and we went into the emergency room. The missile fell just as I closed the door."
Dolev Sadan, 38, from Tel Aviv, is having a hard time digesting the moment a missile from Iran destroyed his house and recalls how he tried to help his neighbors despite being injured himself.
"The door opened and I was injured. All my arms and legs were cut. The house collapsed, the ceiling collapsed, everything was glass," he says. "I heard people screaming in the stairwell. I went to get them, brought them into my emergency room, and quickly ran to wet towels, because there was smoke and it was impossible to breathe."
With great heroism, he rescued the residents from the building: "I'm a medic, so I took care of them. I gave my shoes to others so they wouldn't get hurt. We left with wet towels because there was a fire in the building and outside."
Dolev, who was injured in the Second Lebanon War, deals with post-traumatic stress disorder, and the sights brought back painful memories. Faced with great difficulty and property that was burned, he says: "I'm happy that I was able to help and save people and calm everyone I could."
You are a hero, Dolev
An no translation necessary here; these images of rescued children in the arms of the amazing rescue workers in the hours following missile attacks have been shared widely:
And here I bring you a photo that brought a smile to my face.
A post from Shaare Zedek Medical Center, which houses one of the world’s busiest birthing centers:·
Newborns born in the sheltered delivery suites at Shaare Zedek during Operation Rising Lion were presented with onesies reading :
“My mother is a lioness”
And a story that fills me with hope:
Another aspect of Operation Rising Lion was all the Israelis who were abroad when it broke out and couldn’t make it back to Israel (as well as all those who were here and couldn’t return home.)
Hagay Lober, actor, public figure, and father of Elisha Yehonatan, z’’l, a soldier who fell in Gaza, shared this story of how the incredible actions of one man brought his son-in-law home:
One Man's Factory
The man in the picture is called Noam Lanir, and he and I disagree on many things.
I am religious and he is secular; I am a settler from Binyamin and he is a centrist in every sense.
And during the days of the pro and con of the legal reform, we demonstrated against each other, angrily.
Our political views will probably never meet.
And the ballots we will cast will be different in every sense.
And when Yonatan fell, he ran to comfort me in my shiva (mourning).
He was there at the commemoration of the thirtieth day and at the one-year anniversary.
He hugged me in moments of distress.
And he made sure to call to hear what was happening.
And he swore to me, as well as to others, that he would do everything to ensure that we remain united.
And yesterday, he heard that my son-in-law was stuck abroad after he’d gone on vacation following 90 days of reserve duty.
He called me and said: "Hagai, leave this one. I’ve got it."
And he turned the world upside down and found public and private flights.
And he did not agree under any circumstances that we would share in the expenses.
And within a day, my son-in-law was in Israel, reunited with his wife and baby.
And it turns out that from the first day of the war, he has turned this into an industry.
And to everyone who is in distress, and to every soldier and bereaved family,
He helps without making a calculation of what they think and who they are.
And everything is done with modesty, purposefulness, and humility.
And if this is what they mean when they say "Israel is divided",
And if this is what they mean when they say "Israel is polarized",
And if this is what they sigh about when they say "a torn society".
Then we can relax and feel great.
And know that disagreements, however deep they may be, do not harm love.
And know that even struggles over the image of the country stems from the bonds of unity and brotherhood.
And even on this morning when everything is so difficult and painful - there is hope.
Thank you, dear man,
On behalf of dozens and hundreds of men and women.
Who met you in times of distress on the way.
And finally, another message I have seen in several places from different people, maybe cause I’m the kinda person who has lots of therapist friends, or maybe cause this really is just true: a call encouraging all of us who’ve lived through this madness to give ourselves a break. I’d encourage you, my readers, to take this to heart as well, because even if you weren’t being woken at night by warnings and running to shelter throughout the day, I imagine you were probably checking the news too often and worrying too much.
This post is from movement therapist Tali Zornberg, whom I am blessed to call a friend:
Do you feel weird?
Are you wondering if you're normal?
Let's start with this, yes-
you're normal.
Completely normal.
A friend called me tonight,
confused:
"Tell me I'm not crazy...
that I'm sane.
Everyone's excited and celebrating,
and I can't do this.
I need a moment!!!"
I told her that was totally normal.
And that I just felt like I had to talk about it.
Can we talk about it for a moment?
About the fact that we're a country on Speed.
Everything here is moving, happening and changing at a pace of 2000 km/h.
And all this -
when there is currently an entire nation here living in the state of a woman giving birth.
The body has been traumatized,
The continuous lack of sleep makes everything heavier,
None of us has had a moment for ourselves in peace for 12 days without being on guard or worrying about someone.
It’s true–
We all waited and prayed for it to end,
That we would get back the routine that was taken from us.
That our children would be able to finish their school year properly and be able to say goodbye,
That we would get the few days we deserve before the long summer break.
That the livelihood of all the self-employed that collapsed before our eyes in these days - that it all would return.
It's all true.
And yet -
The system has its own rhythm.
And if you feel strange today -
If you feel that "Wait a minute, wait a minute!!!"
If you feel guilty that you are not happy and joyful,
As expected of you -
It's really, really Natural.
And okay.
The body has been through ongoing trauma,
Abundant amounts of cortisol and adrenaline were flowing through our blood,
Sleep schedules were completely disrupted,
So it's okay if this transition is too abrupt for you.
It's okay if you feel like you need another day
or two or a week to digest all of this,
And it's okay if it's a gradual process,
Come back slowly, slowly
But really slowly
And gradually -
You will get back to functioning.
And if that's not possible,
Because life and everything -
So at least don't yell at yourself,
Okay?
A little forgiveness.
And tenderness.
Shabbat Shalom,
Leah