Light at the end of the tunnels

Hours of painful labor precede the unparalleled joy of childbirth. As a new life emerges from hidden darkness into the light of the world, the family is filled with joy, awakened with awe at the miraculous delivery and hope for the future to be forever changed by the newborn. Meanwhile, the mother who delivered the infant must recuperate from the difficult effort required to bring new life.

Labor and delivery — I keep returning to this metaphor for the sense of relief and elation yet enduring trauma I feel at seeing ALL the remaining living hostages return home. Who doesn’t feel like we have witnessed a miracle? And who doesn’t feel the residual pain from our two years of spiritual, emotional, and physical labor? For two years our muscles have been clenched, anxious with fear of enduring torture for the last captives. We reserved a sliver of hope and anticipation, never letting go of the expectation that some alchemy of prayer, power, and politics would create the golden moment of their release. I would wake every morning and check if today was the day; again and again, the twisted muscle in my chest ratcheted tighter, as even when some returned, others remained. Finally, this moment has come. The last of our living hostages has returned, reunited with their country, their people, and most of all their family. To be witness to this moment is to experience a revealed miracle, a blessing of historic proportions.

What an amazing feeling this morning to watch video after video of families reuniting with their beloved, experiencing a new chance at life after narrowly escaping death. Every video seems to begin with shrieking, untethered elation to be near the loved one they thought they might never see again. Screams of disbelief and pure joy are quickly followed by long, tight embraces that go far beyond what anyone could call a hug; more like hanging on for dear life. In several videos, whole families pile on at once, resembling a team huddle, transferring renewed energy that had been nearly extinguished. Some hostages wear their trauma visibly, looking bewildered and disbelieving still. Others somehow find the capacity to joke and smile, and even tease their parents for having worried. Yet another layer of miracle, that people could go through two entire years of torture, and yet even for a few moments put on a smile and maintain their sense of humor. How can we not be filled with wonder at their incredible capacity to sustain light in the tunnels of darkness?

For two years, so many people have prayed and wished and hoped and worked and strategized and sacrificed to try to allow these reunions to take place. In these final moments, the all-night, collective gatherings across Israel bristled with energy, a collective effervescence, emotions bubbling up and crowds bursting with joyful exuberance. I was glad my own daughter could be there in person, taking part in this historic moment that I hope will leave a permanent imprint on her soul.

Politicians trade in compromise. How gratifying to witness a bargain for Every Single One. The torture of knowing that some would be released and some remain behind has been an added torture in prior reunions, adding trauma to previous hostage releases. Moreover, until now we have hardly allowed ourselves to grieve over the lives lost because we have been so focused on bringing home those who still had a chance of life. Finally we can allow a full breath and begin anew. Somehow, even the ability to fully grieve feels like a relief.

Jewish liturgy teaches that on Rosh Hashana God inscribes the book of life for the coming year, and on Yom Kippur the decree is sealed, but left open until Hoshana Rabba when the book is finally closed and put on its shelf until the following year. How incredible that circumstances aligned for this to be the day our captives finally come home.

Two years of torture began with the depraved and brutal attacks on Simchat Torah, 5784, and our final captives came home two years to the day, Hoshanna Rabba 5786. On Simchat Torah, we read the very end of the Torah and then immediately after resume reading at the very beginning — one cycle ends, and a new cycle begins.

Let us hope this horrible chapter has indeed ended, and our hostages, along with us, will enter a new era. May we continue to bear witness to revealed miracles in answer to our prayers. May we go from war to peace, from isolation to unity, from hatred to love, from the darkness of tunnels to the brilliant light at their end.

Laura (Lori) Fein of Teaneck is a litigator at Eckert Seamans LLC. She is the daughter of the greatest mom ever, who she hopes is reading this, and the mom to five daughters who probably never will. Her podcast Mommash: The Oy and Joy of Family is available on all platforms, and she can be reached at mommash.podcast@gmail.com.

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