24 Months Following the 7th of October: When Hostility Transformed Into The Norm – Why Humanity Remains Our Sole Hope

It unfolded during that morning appearing completely ordinary. I journeyed with my husband and son to collect our new dog. Life felt steady – until it all shifted.

Glancing at my screen, I noticed updates concerning the frontier. I dialed my parent, hoping for her reassuring tone telling me she was safe. No answer. My parent didn't respond either. Then, I reached my brother – his tone already told me the devastating news even as he explained.

The Developing Nightmare

I've observed so many people on television whose existence had collapsed. Their gaze revealing they hadn't yet processed their loss. Now it was me. The floodwaters of violence were building, with the wreckage hadn't settled.

My young one looked at me from his screen. I moved to contact people in private. Once we reached our destination, I encountered the terrible killing of a woman from my past – a senior citizen – shown in real-time by the terrorists who took over her house.

I recall believing: "Not one of our family could live through this."

Later, I witnessed recordings showing fire bursting through our family home. Even then, in the following days, I denied the building was gone – until my family provided photographs and evidence.

The Aftermath

Getting to the station, I called the kennel owner. "Hostilities has started," I told them. "My family are probably dead. Our kibbutz was captured by attackers."

The ride back involved attempting to reach friends and family and at the same time guarding my young one from the awful footage that were emerging across platforms.

The footage during those hours exceeded all comprehension. Our neighbor's young son taken by several attackers. Someone who taught me driven toward the border in a vehicle.

Friends sent Telegram videos that seemed impossible. A senior community member likewise abducted across the border. My friend's daughter accompanied by her children – kids I recently saw – seized by armed terrorists, the fear visible on her face paralyzing.

The Long Wait

It felt interminable for help to arrive the area. Then commenced the terrible uncertainty for news. Later that afternoon, one photograph appeared showing those who made it. My parents were not among them.

During the following period, as community members assisted investigators identify victims, we scoured the internet for signs of our loved ones. We witnessed torture and mutilation. There was no footage of my father – no clue regarding his experience.

The Emerging Picture

Eventually, the circumstances grew more distinct. My senior mother and father – along with dozens more – were taken hostage from their home. My parent was in his eighties, Mom was 85. Amid the terror, a quarter of the residents were killed or captured.

Over two weeks afterward, my mother left captivity. Before departing, she glanced behind and offered a handshake of her captor. "Peace," she said. That image – a basic human interaction during unspeakable violence – was shared worldwide.

Over 500 days following, my father's remains were recovered. He was murdered only kilometers from our home.

The Continuing Trauma

These events and the recorded evidence continue to haunt me. The two years since – our urgent efforts to free prisoners, my father's horrific end, the ongoing war, the destruction across the border – has worsened the initial trauma.

My mother and father remained peace activists. My mother still is, like other loved ones. We know that animosity and retaliation cannot bring any comfort from this tragedy.

I share these thoughts while crying. With each day, sharing the experience becomes more difficult, instead of improving. The young ones from my community remain hostages along with the pressure of what followed feels heavy.

The Individual Battle

Personally, I describe focusing on the trauma "immersed in suffering". We typically discussing events to fight for hostage release, though grieving seems unaffordable we don't have – now, our work continues.

No part of this story is intended as justification for war. I continuously rejected hostilities from day one. The residents across the border have suffered terribly.

I'm shocked by leadership actions, but I also insist that the militants shouldn't be viewed as peaceful protesters. Because I know their actions on October 7th. They failed the population – ensuring pain for all because of their violent beliefs.

The Social Divide

Discussing my experience with those who defend what happened appears as failing the deceased. My community here experiences unprecedented antisemitism, and our people back home has fought versus leadership consistently while experiencing betrayal multiple times.

Across the fields, the destruction across the frontier can be seen and emotional. It shocks me. Simultaneously, the ethical free pass that various individuals seem to grant to the organizations makes me despair.