Lola Marsh - Until you'll come back, until you return

I remember finding out through a moving video posted by Lola Marsh that they are Noa Argamani's favorite band and her favorite song is "She's a rainbow". This was on Noa's 26th birthday on October 12th, more than three months ago, and she is still held captive by Hamas with no hostage deal in sight. After several delays, the academic year started earlier this month, including at Ben-Gurion University, where Noa is a third-year engineering student. I can't even begin to imagine what her family is going through and what it is like for her friends to start the academic year without her, without knowing how she is, especially after hearing about the terrifying conditions in captivity from the hostages who came back.

A few days ago I came across this letter posted by The Free Press, written by Merav Svirsky before the heartbreaking news of her brother's death:

My name is Merav Svirsky. I'm an Israeli yoga teacher and artist. I was born and raised in Kibbutz Be'eri. On October 7 my life changed forever. Both of my parents, Orit and Rafi, were brutally murdered by the Hamas terrorists. My brother Itai (38) was kidnapped from my mother's home, and he's been held hostage in Gaza ever since. My two other brothers survived the attack, and so did my 97-year-old grandmother. Her Philippine caregiver, Grace, was murdered trying to protect her. My husband is also from Be'eri, and most of his family survived. His beloved aunt, who was a neighbor of my mother, was murdered too. Both of our families, those who survived, are now refugees in our own country. Our home was destroyed, our lives shattered.

It's inconceivable that Itai is still in Gaza. One hundred days. Writing this number makes me shiver. In the past three months, the people of Israel have been demonstrating an amazing spirit of volunteering - contributing to the war effort, supporting the refugees, helping each other. But now, people are gradually getting back to their "normal life". My greatest fear is this return to "normal life"- for our family, and for the families of the other 135 hostages, life has frozen and will not resume until our beloved ones return home alive. We're not post-traumatic, because we're in the middle of an ongoing trauma. We're under a continuous terror attack, every minute of every day.

October 7 has taught me that I cannot trust anyone and anything. I lost trust in my country, in my government, in my army. The only way to restore (some of) the lost trust is to bring them home now.

In the past three months, the Israeli leadership has been talking about achieving victory against Hamas. There's no such thing. We lost this war. My family lost this war on October 7. But although we cannot win the war, we can feel hope again. Hope should be the goal, not victory. And that hope can only be achieved by returning the hostages home. Now.

I have two sons, Eilam (7) and Keinan (4.5). They know so many people who are dead. Dozens. A few weeks ago they had a discussion between them about Itai, their beloved uncle. Eilam was arguing that he was not going to come back "because everyone else who had disappeared ended up being dead." For the future of my children - for their ability to hope - Itai must return home. Nothing is more important than that, for the future of my children, for the future of my family, and for the future of my country.

If you're still there, make a wish

And I will ask too

And if you hear my voice in a dream

I won't give up on you

And the days go by

And the nights are hard

My heart is bleeding and my soul is already broken

Until you'll come back

I won't let go, I won't rest

And until you return

I'll search for you in spirit

Writing more letters

Maybe there will be ahead

Better days

We sang your favorite song

We went out in the morning to see the sunrise

To feel a bit more alive

Your smell is still in bed

I feel you between the sheets

My heart is already becoming gray

They took away my hero

They're asking again where is dad and I have no answer

Until you'll come back

I won't let go, I won't rest

And until you return

I'll search for you in spirit

Writing more letters

Maybe there will be ahead

Better days

We sang your favorite song

And again in the dream you dance and disappear

And again I'm hiding my tears from everyone

Screaming, crying, making your voice heard for the world

I need you

Until you'll come back

I won't let go, I won't rest

And until you return

I'll search for you in spirit

Writing more letters

Maybe there will be ahead

Better days

We sang your favorite song

lolamarsh.lnk.to/Adshetahzor 

Idan Amedi - Some of the time

It's been a tough day. We woke up to the news that four IDF soldiers were killed fighting in Gaza. I quickly checked to make sure there was no one I knew. I checked again at noon when five more names of fallen soldiers were released, all reservists who had stopped their lives to fight for us. Later in the evening I heard their stories and saw footage from a few of the funerals that took place today, parents mourning their 19-year-old son, a young woman mourning her partner: "We were supposed to create a family together, now I have joined the family of the bereaved". 

One glimmer of light during this heavy day is the recent news that Idan Amedi, who was seriously injured in an explosion in Gaza, has regained consciousness, with his condition now defined as moderate. I saw Idan in concert at the end of September, a spontaneous decision I made with a friend since we wanted to enjoy an open-air concert before the winter, a decision we're both so grateful for. I wasn't sure how it would be since I was only familiar with a few of his songs, but I was won over by his immense talent and his natural ability to bring the crowd together, to make us all feel like a united group. I love how this video captures Idan's warmth and dedication, always giving 110% percent, and always performing with all his heart. 

Some of the time I had concerns about what

I wanted to say and didn't, maybe I never will

In a small window in front of me, she's staring at the streetlights

How during the day they are lonely and how at night they come back to life

And sometimes it also happens to me at nights

To think about all that I wanted to be

And sometimes it's a kind of familiar smile

That helps me to make peace with what is now over

Sometimes when she's just watching the girls

It's so hard for me to hold in the tears

All those in shades of purple and green

Remind me that the good is not far anymore

It is not far anymore...

Some of the time I had clear decisions

That I will begin to be happy, to let go of all that is no more

In a small window in front of me, she's staring at the old city

That I loved to love, and she loved me back

And sometimes it still happens to me at nights

To think about all that I wanted to be

And sometimes it's a kind of familiar smile

That helps me to make peace with what is now over

Sometimes when she's just watching the girls

It's so hard for me to hold in the tears

All those in shades of purple and green

Remind me that the good is not far anymore

It is not far anymore...

Translation from LyricsTranslate