Life Shouldn't Be a Rollercoaster

 Are you one of those people who loves to go on rollercoasters? I'll admit that in all of my life, at least my adult life, not once did I choose to go on a rollercoaster. Not once. Instead, apparently, I moved to Israel.

At first, I raised my little children much as I did in the States. I watched over them like a hawk, worried, planned. Slowly, I let them be more free. It was Elie who first told his grandmother over the phone how much he loved it here, "Savta, I'm free," he told her on one call. His excitement, the energy with which he accepted live here and thrived amazed me then, and does today.

All of his siblings are people they never would have been, if we had not had the courage to move here and set them free. Somewhere along the way, during my journey as a soldier's mother, I realized that having avoided rollercoasters with a passion, somehow without knowing, I'd finally taken the plunge.

The rollercoaster has an official name. It is called the Israel Defense Forces and it takes us all along. We ride along and everything seems to be fine. At some point, we feel the tension is growing, heightening. But the view is great, life rolls along.

And then we drop. You never see the drop when you are climbing...but suddenly it's there and you are falling. And it goes so quickly, the sensation of falling is so strong, it takes a second for you to realize you've hit the bottom, you aren't falling but cruising along again...

And somehow, as the next rise comes up, you again don't realize you are climbing...until you fall.

It was that way when my sons were in the army...when all seemed fine until we'd suddenly find ourselves again on the brink of war. Only sometimes, it was just a new hiatus and there we'd find ourselves again driving along straight and fine.

And other times, the terrifying fall into war, into confusion. Missiles flying, sirens screeching, soldiers going off to fight. And then suddenly, it would stop. A ceasefire...an agreement. 

October 7 was different. There was no build up, no inclination on October 6 that we would awaken to a hell beyond our imagination. In truth, even after the launch, it didn't have to be the way it was. Had the world reacted with sustained outrage - beyond the momentary "oh my God", things might have been different. Things would have been different.

So many soldiers would not have had to die. More hostages would be coming home alive. Less innocent Gaza civilians would have been caught in Hamas' trap. More of Gaza would be standing untouched.

There are no winners in war, but never in the history of man, has the world been so blind as to confuse between the aggressor - the ones who attacked and broke the ceasefire on October 7, and the victims - the ones who defended themselves and have been fighting for 15 months to bring their people home.