Ending the War and Dancing Again.

In light we walk, all the days of our lives. Seven are home, in our hands, on their way to their parents and loved ones. Thirteen more are on the way. They have called their parents from Gaza to calm them and show them that they are okay.

They are put in vans and delivered into our hands by an organization that did nothing to help them for two years. In our eyes, the Red Cross is little more than a glorified taxi service.

No matter. Today, they are invisible to us. They drive them to our soldiers and there the hostages are surrounded, hugged, and escorted through streets filled with people and blue and white flags. The end of the war is coming. The sun is shining, the sky a brilliant blue with clouds. But good clouds. Not the terrifying white streaks of "clouds" we saw on October 7. These are kind and fluffy clouds that hold the promise of rain in the coming days, weeks and months.

Helicopters stand by to fly them to hospitals that have prepared entire wings for each hostage. Each will receive a new laptop and a new cellular phone, their clothes and new clothes. That which brings them comfort from the past and that which will see them into the future. The future has finally come. 

Trump has landed in Israel to a hero's welcome, as is his due. He may be hated by some in the US but here he is loved. He helped close the chasm between Israel and Gaza, between heaven and hell. He declares that the war has ended. We smile and allow him this dream. We are not there yet.

The land the hostages come to is beautiful and calm. The one they left is in ruins. Yes, we did that to them and we will do the same to any country that takes our children, murders our babies, attacks our communities. It is a promise. One we now, after thousands of years, are in a position to promise.

Never should the world forget that Hamas brought this upon themselves and upon their people. They started this war. They brought their barbaric ways to our land and we have answered them in the language they understand.

This war could have ended before it began had they not kidnapped 251 people. It could have ended the next day if Europe and the world had raged against Hamas.

Thousands stand on this day on the roads and in "Hostage Square", hours before the holiday comes in. It is the same holiday on which the monsters came into our land. Two years later, finally, all the living hostages are home. We wait now for the bodies of the last 28.

Once they come home, the army will pull back to defend our land from near our borders. They stand down for now but ready. Always ready because no matter what you do to a snake, it remains a snake.

Seven years ago, I stopped this blog. My youngest son "stood down", finishing his national service. And as he did, I stepped down too. On October 7, 2023, they called my sons to fight and I came back here. My youngest returned to war, to a unit that would have terrified me when he served then. It terrifies me now and still, I am proud. Proud of my sons, proud of our soldiers, proud of my country.

What love kept these men alive for two years? What strength of body and mind kept them sane and allowed them to walk on their own two feet after such torture and starvation? The answer is family and Israel. Two years ago, as we worked to understand the magnitude of the tragedy that had been brought to our borders by monsters and barbarians from Gaza, we promised that we would dance again. In the depths of our grief, the possibility was unthinkable.

We fought like lions, searched and did what we needed to do. We cut down Hezbollah, crippled Hamas, broke Iran's ability to attack and put Yemen back to the middle ages. We emerge, strong and proud.

Today, we are dancing again.