Today, we conclude the most painful story in the history of the State of Israel and begin writing a new chapter of rebirth with the return of fallen hostage and police officer, St.-Sgt.-Maj. Ran Gvili.
Some have been granted a “happy ending” to their story – the chance to embrace their living loved ones once again and embark together on the long journey of rehabilitation. Others have found a different kind of closure: the bittersweet solace of bringing a son or daughter to a final resting place in Israel. Slowly but surely, we are transitioning from the stage of trauma to post-trauma; confronting this next phase is no less critical.
This marks the end of an exhausting journey that spanned over two years. It was a journey defined by the infinite sacrifice of IDF soldiers and their families, alongside the stubborn, unyielding struggle of the hostages’ families and the entire People of Israel – who never ceased to believe, to cry out, and to fight, both at home and abroad.
October 7
More than two years have passed since that terrible morning of October 7. I remember the phone call from my brother, informing me that the late Tair and Hodaya – sisters of my sister-in-law, Liza – were missing from the Nova music festival in Re’im. I remember the first conversation with their father, Uri, who added me to the WhatsApp group for families of the missing after receiving no answers at the gates of the Kirya (Defense Ministry) that day. I remember how I introduced myself to the families of the hostages that morning, and my appeal to my manager at the time, Ronen Tzur, and his immediate commitment to dedicate everything to this cause.
On October 8, at a press conference, I announced the establishment of the Hostages and Missing Families Forum. In that crowded room at Kfar Maccabiah, tears merged – the tears of grieving parents and reporters alike. After the press conference, my phone did not stop ringing. Dozens of testimonies poured in of babies torn from their mothers’ arms, of soldiers who vanished, and of young people brutally abducted. These are stories that will stay with me forever.
Lessons learned
In these two years, we have learned a bitter lesson: “If I am not for myself, who will be for me?” In those first hours, when the leadership vanished and ceased to function, Israeli society filled the vacuum. There was neither Left nor Right, only forward.
We learned that our strength lies in solidarity and mutual responsibility. We learned that we must make urgent repairs: in transparency, in humility, and in the way we speak to one another. These are lessons written in blood; we must never forget them.
Today, we are allowed to be happy
Even on this joyful day, we will not forget the dozens of hostages who were murdered in captivity – people we could have saved through a deal. We will still demand answers for everything, and everyone will have to answer the difficult questions and take responsibility for their part on October 7 and the days that preceded it. We owe this to the bereaved families and to the victims. We owe it to those wounded in body and soul, and to the heroes who fell in battle for the release of the hostages.
But today, we are allowed to be happy. Today, we are allowed to breathe.
I dedicate this day to the memory of Tair and Hodaya David. They grew up in Beit Dagan, loved their country, and served as combat soldiers – Tair in the Iron Dome unit and Hodaya in the Caracal Battalion. After their service, they went on their “big trip” together and began to fulfill their dreams: Hodaya began developing her career as a Pilates instructor, and Tair intended to open a beauty business and begin her academic studies. Their dreams were cut short, but it is thanks to them – and all the others – that we are here today.
And this, for me, is total victory.
The writer is co-founder of the Hostages and Missing Families Forum.