Saturday, October 17, 2026

Hila Ruach - Maybe It's Over

 ♥

Maybe it's over
And if it's over
I wouldn't say
That I wouldn't change a thing

There's nothing left to talk about
The drugs don't work anymore
They're just like us
Worn-out horses
But everyone's crawled out of their holes today

I wanted to lie deep within your soul
There are things life is dying to give me
I hold them back at the entrance
Like a tired security guard
Not looking anyone in the eye
I arrived too early
It hasn't even started yet
False alarm

And maybe it's over
And if it's over
I wouldn't say
That I wouldn't change a thing

Exes wrote songs about it, and I never heard them
It's clear that the hardest thing in the world to do
Is to find somebody who believes in you
And you believe
And it's indescribable
You could die at the crosswalk
In front of the corner store
Or you could just not get up tomorrow

And maybe it's over
And if it's over
I wouldn't say
That I wouldn't change a thing
I wouldn't say
That I wouldn't change a thing

It's a question of luck
So maybe don't ask
And it's a numbers game
Don't bang your head against the wall, no
Because you can't beat the human brain
Nothing will help
And there are no more lies in the world
Just people who lie
And wait
Beyond time
Maybe there is such a thing
As wanting too much
But now it's over

You believed the things we were told long ago
And in the end they brought us this far
To the moment we learned to endure
And we went back to sleep
We are a step away from victory
The prehistoric man
First place
The flight to Japan
Killing time
Shutting one's mouth
And walking a straight line
The not knowing if it's possible to be happier
Your turn has come, not in your name, harsh land
Enough, I'm tired of living
So I cause trouble
It's over anyway
The not knowing if it's possible to be happier
The not knowing if it's possible to be happier
And it seems it's possible, it seems it's possible
I don't need a grand ending
Just something familiar

In the meantime, you
Feel familiar to me
Only you, feel familiar to me 
Only you



Saturday, October 10, 2026

Valerie Hamaty and Ran Danker - One Destiny


One destiny
Placed us here
In this land

We tried to run away
We tried to forget
And we couldn't 
Leave

We traveled far
Across the sea
It was good
But we returned

We tried to bloom
In a foreign land
And we couldn't
Leave

One destiny 
Placed us here
In this land


I could have watched the national ceremony commemorating the third anniversary of October 7 at home, but something in me felt the need to attend the ceremony, especially this year, which felt heavier after the last two years were focused on returning the hostages. So I walked with my mom to the park, grateful there were no security limits because of a possible missile attack, something we don't take for granted. The ceremony followed the format of "Songs in the Square" and other memorial ceremonies, featuring solemn segments on lost lives followed by a song, which was often related to the segment, giving time to reflect on what we heard. This felt especially strong when we saw a segment showing the stories of Haim Ben Aryeh, a school bus driver from Karmei Katif, and Abed Al-Karim Al-Nasasra, who worked alongside his father and brother as a shuttle driver in the Bedouin town of Kuseife. Both received urgent requests to help evacuate civilians on October 7th. Neither hesitated, and they got into their vehicles. Partygoers whom Abed drove to the Nova festival the night before called Abed for help, and he said to his wife: "I know it's dangerous, but I need to help these people." Abed had already brought one group home and gone back for another group when he was shot by Hamas terrorists on his way. Haim received a call to evacuate children and people with disabilities from Kibbutz Be'eri after the massacre there and told his wife, "If they need me, I'm going". Haim was deeply traumatized by the sights of the shocked children and the smell of fire and blood. He told his wife that what really broke him on the drive to the Dead Sea was the complete silence; no one cried. The sights and smells didn't leave him, and a few weeks later he took his own life in the bus he loved so much. 

It was very moving to see Valerie Hamaty sing this Ofra Haza cover together with Ran Danker after hearing the tragic stories of Abed and Haim and seeing their families in the audience. Right afterwards, Omri Shifroni, one of the founders of the Kumu movement that organized the ceremony, gave a speech:

October 6th, 2023 - Kibbutz Be'eri's community celebration. A peaceful Friday evening on the Kibbutz; everyone gathered in the community hall, singing songs from the past - songs of a different life. Nothing hinted that the glass of wine in hand would be the last of life, as we knew it. The morning of October 7th: the house is shaking. We run to the safe room while the rapid-response team rushes to fight. Eleven members. Six weapons. Hundreds of terrorists. At first, we didn't grasp the magnitude of the disaster. But at 6:29 a.m., our lives were turned upside down. We hid children in closets to shield them from the murderers in our living rooms. We defended our families with bare hands, with almost no means to fight back. And for you - Liel and Yanai, pure and beloved children - there was no protection. Even Aunt Ilus, who had embraced you and shielded you like a mother, could not save you from that hell. I will never forget the broken voice of Abuya - your grandfather, who was also a father figure and a friend to you. The knowledge that he couldn't reach you was just as lethal as the bullets that pierced the safe room door - and the armor of my all-powerful, strong, and good uncle. 
My beloved family, you should not have been murdered. None of you. You were all alone. Defenseless... and I, too, was unable to help. Your story touched the heart of an entire nation. Liel, your final words have stayed with us. You asked for nothing grand. You simply wanted to go back to school. To the ordinary life of a girl your age. But you were already trapped in a hell of fire, smoke, and fear. 

That morning, the systems collapsed; the state failed to function. During those long hours in the safe room, the trust that served as our anchor shattered into pieces. But there was something else, too: Fighters pushed forward, broke through, and finally arrived. Civilians stepped up wholeheartedly, and we felt the full force of Israeli mutual solidarity. Those drops of kindness turned into a massive wave that gave us the strength to believe in this place again. But mutual solidarity alone is not enough. To rebuild trust, we also need the truth. We must know what happened. Without investigating the truth, we cannot heal. And we cannot ensure it never happens again. This must not become a political argument. It is a moral obligation. An obligation rooted in our values. And a security imperative. For three years, the people of Israel have carried the weight of fear, brokenness, and pain - and one relentless question: How did this happen to us? We will not give up on finding the answer. This is our test! And we can grow from this test, too. But only if we look the truth in the eye. Only if we learn, and only if we make things right. And amidst all this brokenness, we also witnessed the most beautiful part of who we are. Strangers became family. People opened their homes, carried out rescues, reported for reserve duty, and volunteered at hotels, donated, cooked, and gathered supplies. We held each other up while everything around us shook. We must not lose it. 

Beloved family, you left us a clear legacy: Ilus - we will keep your kindness alive in the world. Abuya - like you, we will respect every person. Yanai and Liel - your deaths will not be in vain; in your names, we will build a worthy society here. The community festival will never look the same again, and we, too, will never be who we once were. But we can choose to be better and more worthy. From here, we rise. From here, we mend. From here, we rebuild. 

Friday, October 2, 2026

Alon Eder & Band - Precious Soul


Precious soul
I always see you when I close my eyes

To me, you are love, the chaos, and the time
And at journey's end, you will be my home

Forever, forever...

As low and as high as it can be
And you just gave me everything you didn't have.

My precious soul, wherever I go
Promise me you'll always be there

Forever... forever...

We crossed the deep sea, and the desert too
We knew the good and the lie

I have returned to your embrace and in your embrace I'll know
How to unwind in song in the evening hours

Forever... forever...


From the YouTube description: The song 'Precious Soul' is dedicated to Yam Glass, Z"L, an IDF field observer who loved our music and was murdered on October 7th.
The audience singing along with us here was recorded at two shows, at the Barby and the Yellow Submarine. Thank you to everyone in the audience with us, who always give above and beyond.
We keep trying to hold on to the belief that it is possible to touch the feeling that something in us continues forever, between us and those who are no longer with us, and to keep going.


Here is Yam's story, taken from her Izkor page:

Yam grew up in Modi'in. She was a beloved daughter to her parents and a devoted sister to her two brothers. She was a cheerful, pleasant, responsible, and high-achieving girl. She attended Nitzanim Elementary School, where she was an outstanding, diligent, and ambitious student. She continued her education at the Yitzhak Rabin Ironi Bet Middle School, and due to her impressive achievements in STEM subjects, she was placed in the "Amat" class - a specialized scientific-technological track.

In 2016, at the age of thirteen, she moved with her family to the Netherlands for her father's job, settling in the city of Almere. She attended an international school there, formed close friendships with students from around the world, traveled extensively, and gained a wealth of experiences.

Yam was gifted with many talents and succeeded in everything she did. Her personality combined an interest in science with a passion for various forms of artistic creativity, ranging from painting to crafts like knitting - activities she pursued in her free time. She loved music deeply, played the drums, and was a member of a band. Additionally, she taught herself how to build, program, and design websites.

Upon completing high school in 2021, the family returned to Israel to enable Yam and her older brother to enlist in the military. 

On March 21, 2022, Yam enlisted in the IDF and served in the Border Defense Corps. She completed a Visual Intelligence Analyst course at the Border Defense School at Base "Magen Sayarim" in the Southern Negev and aspired to serve in the Gaza sector, an area considered both interesting and challenging. She was stationed at Re'im Base, home to the Gaza Division headquarters, and served in the "Nesher" 414 Battalion, a unit operating under the Border Defense Corps' Combat Intelligence Array.

After a year in the role and upon the recommendation of her commanders, she attended a command course. Subsequently, she was assigned as a commander of field observers at the Nachal Oz outpost. This outpost was considered a frontline, highly operational position within the sector, and Yam was proud to have been selected to serve there. She was an admired commander who was attentive to her soldiers, caring deeply for them. They wrote: "Her smile and humility were unique to her. We will forever remember her, her gaze and her kind eyes."

Throughout her service, she was responsible for the safety of the sector's troops and the residents of the Gaza Envelope, raising the alarm whenever she detected threats along the security fence. Throughout her service, she was present at numerous security incidents and military operations, including Operation "Breaking Dawn" (August 5-7, 2022) and Operation "Shield and Arrow" (May 9-13, 2023) - both directed against the Palestinian Islamic Jihad terrorist organization in the Gaza Strip. She was fully aware of the importance of her role to national security and showed no fear about being stationed near the border. She performed her duties with dedication, responsibility, professionalism, and composure.

During her military service, she met Alon, her partner, with whom she shared a love for music.

Yam had many plans and dreams for the future. Her discharge from mandatory service was scheduled for March 2024, following a two-year term. She planned to fly to the Netherlands and continue on to Japan for a trip with childhood friends. She had already purchased flight tickets to both destinations for that month. Additionally, she dreamed of traveling to New York with her mother and intended to study computer engineering at university and pursue a career in the field. However, these aspirations were never realized.

On Saturday, the 22nd of Tishrei - Simchat Torah 5784 (October 7, 2023) at 6:30 a.m., the terrorist organization Hamas launched a surprise attack on Israel. Under the cover of a massive barrage of missiles and rockets fired from the Gaza Strip at vast areas of the country, thousands of terrorists infiltrated via land, sea, and air. They launched a murderous assault on the communities surrounding the Gaza Strip as well as the towns of Sderot, Ofakim, and Netivot, targeting outdoor party-goers near Kibbutz Re'im and Kibbutz Nirim, IDF bases, and travelers on local roads. The terrorists abducted hundreds of Israelis to the Gaza Strip and destroyed, looted, and set fires to homes and property. Hundreds of soldiers, police officers, security personnel, and members of local rapid-response teams fell in battle. That morning, a war began.

That same morning, Yam was on duty in the operations room at the Nachal Oz outpost. At 6:29 a.m., she spotted terrorists approaching the border fence area, as well as explosions from charges intended to breach the barrier. She alerted forces to defend the outpost and the communities in the sector. At 6:40 a.m., dozens of terrorists stormed the outpost, deploying drones that dropped bombs and struck the surveillance systems. Yam and her friends remained at their posts until the moment all surveillance systems were disabled, they were then directed to the secure room within the operations center. At 9:41 a.m., Yam sent a text message to her mother from another soldier's phone: "Mom, it's Yam. I'm okay now." That was the last sign of life from her, and since then, her mother said, "time stood still". Throughout the day, her family tried to find out where Yam was and how she was doing, hoping she was safe inside the operations center.

At the same time, numerous IDF forces were defending the outpost, engaging in fierce, heroic battles at close range against Hamas terrorists and killing dozens of them. During hours of intense combat, the terrorists attempted to seize the operations center but were repelled by the fighters. When the soldiers ran out of ammunition, a terrorist tried to enter the center but was killed by a soldier using a knife taken from one of the terrorists. Finally, the terrorists threw grenades into the operations center and set it ablaze.

Yam was initially listed as missing. A few days later, her dog tag, badly charred, was returned to her family, and her body was eventually identified.

Sergeant Yam Glass fell in battle on the 22nd of Tishrei, 5784 (October 7, 2023). She was twenty years old at the time of her death. She was laid to rest in the military section of the Modi'in cemetery. She is survived by her parents and two brothers.

Following her death, she was posthumously promoted to the rank of Staff Sergeant. Her gravestone bears the inscription: "Believe it or not, there wasn't a day I didn't think of you" (from the song "Yumbo" by Nadav Hollander)

Hundreds of family members, friends, and residents of Modi'in attended the funeral to pay their final respects. At the funeral, singer Alon Eder performed Yam's favorite song, "In Motion, In a Glance" and here are some of the lyrics: "I search within myself for beautiful words, / That I might sing, / That might make me weep. / Evening falls and I wander, / The sunset light - like a weight upon my heart. // I see an opening, / Melodies leading elsewhere. / A faint voice, soon to grow stronger. / In motion, in a glance, / We shall change - both you and I."

Her mother delivered a eulogy: "Yami, I miss you so much. I miss you all day, every day. I miss you at home, at the dinner table, in your room, I even miss seeing your things in the laundry basket. I miss your smile, your opinions, and your voice, the voice calling out 'Mom' from the other end of the house. I miss your inner and outer beauty, and that mother-daughter partnership that only mothers and daughters truly understand". She further said: "Sometimes memories bring a smile to my face, though mostly they bring longing and pain. Yet, the overwhelming feeling is one of helplessness and a suffocating ache at the thought that you are not with us now - and never will be again. I try to connect with you through the music you listened to, the stories people tell about you, and the countless photos and videos. You always look so beautiful, funny, joyful, and pure. An angel, without a doubt. There isn't a moment, not even a split second, when you aren't with me in my thoughts, my pain, and my heart; I think about what you would have wanted to do and where you would have wanted to be... I thought I had always given everything, yet I was denied the chance to give you what you truly needed."