It seems impossible to believe, like the most wonderful of fever dreams, but the hostages — hopefully all 48 of them — should be coming home by the end of this weekend.
The news is particularly poignant as it broke just a day after we cried on the second anniversary of October 7, feeling helplessness and grief, and the return is scheduled to occur around the anniversary of the Hebrew date of the attack, which took place on the Jewish holiday of Simchat Torah.
Hamas needs to release all remaining hostages in what is the first stage of a ceasefire deal the group agreed to this Wednesday, Oct. 8.
20 of those hostages — fathers, sons, brothers — are believed to be alive. 28 are confirmed to be killed. A multinational force is working on finding the bodies of some of those hostages.
On October 7, the families of the hostages and the victims of October 7 staged a giant ceremony to commemorate the victims and fight for the released of those still held captive.
“An entire people is fighting for you,” Vicky Cohen, mother of hostage Nimrod Cohen, told her son from the stage, where she stood with Anat Angrest, the mother of hostage Matan Angrest. Both Matan and Nimrod were captured as soldiers in active duty. The two mothers sang the song “Bo’i Ima,” — “Come Mother,” with Yardena Arazi, a song of a little child in his bed in the dark, asking his mother to come stay with him until he grows up.
Now, Matan and Nimrod, along with 18 other men, will come out of darkness into the light of their families.
For two years, the big square in front of HaBima has been known as Hostage Square. But on Wednesday, Anat Angrest hugging Einav Zangauker, the mother of hostage Matan Zangauker, and said it will now be known as “The Square of The Returning.”
“The Square of Hope,” Zanguaker added.
Einav Zangauker is one of the most famous faces of the hostage family fight. We’ve seen her cry and rage, scream and stop traffic, hang in cages, cover herself in fake blood; we’ve seen her do all that and more for her son. But now, for the first time in two years, we are seeing her cry tears of joy and hope for his return. She now has the knowledge that in the next few days, if nothing goes wrong, she will soon hear her son say: “Mom, I’m home.”
“I miss hearing Matan argue with his sisters, that I need to tell them kids enough, I miss the simple things, the ones that gave flavor to life before October 7,” she shared in a recent interview with Kan11. She also said she was scared of how she would find him, unsure of what to tell him, didn’t know if her legs would have the power to stand under the magnitude of that moment.
An El Al flight brought with it the families of hostages this week:
On it was Bar Kupershtein’s father, Tal, who was injured in 2019 in an accident while volunteering for United Hatzalah. The accident left him without his voice and wheelchair bound. But since his son was captured on October 7 from the Nova Party, where he was working as a guard and paramedic, he’s been working hard on his speech — to advocate for his son’s return — and his mobility, in hopes of standing and embracing his son when he returns.
“My Bar, you’re coming home soon, I can’t wait. The moment you arrive, and we meet, I will hug you tight and stand by you, I love you,” he shared in a video on social media.
At the center of Hostage Square is a piano, and Alon Ohel’s brother spoke of how he hoped he would soon see the 24-year-old play it. Ohel was captured at the Nova party and held in captivity with Eli Sharabi, a since-released hostage who became a secondary father figure to him during their imprisonment. Seeing Ohel play that piano would be a true image of victory.
Twins Ziv and Gali Berman’s mother embraced the boys’ grandparents in tears at the news of their return. The brothers were captured with hostage Emily Damari, who was released in the second hostage deal. Damari interrupted an on air interview with the twins’ aunt to shout her joy on national news. “Am Yisrael chai,” Damari, whose maimed fingers became a national icon, yelled.
Elkana Bohbot’s mother, Ruhama, shared her plans in a TV interview. “I will hug him, I will smell him, I will ask for forgiveness,” she said. “And the only thing I want to hear him say is Ima, Ima, Elkana calls me Ima Sheli, chaim sheli, the way he calls me, I don’t think I was this excited before birth.”
Bohbot was one of three producers behind the Nova festival, and the only one who survived. His wife, who came to Israel from Colombia in 2013, decided not to join him that night to let him focus on work, and stayed with their son Reem, who is now 5.
Omri Miran, a father of two, was taken from his home in Kibbutz Nahal Oz. His daughter, Roni, was the last person he hugged. She is now 5, and remembers every night. For almost two years, her mother Lishay reads “Goodnight Moon,” to her and her sister Alma, 2, and the three say goodnight not just to the moon, but to their father, who is in Gaza, under the same celestial body. “We love you, we miss you,” they say. By Simchat Torah, the four of them will hopefully be looking up at the sky together, saying “I love you,” to each others’ faces, not just the stars.
The images of Lishay hugging Omri’s family upon news of his return are just too moving for words:
Sylvia Cunio raised a glass too, for her two sons about to return — David and Ariel Cunio.
Former hostages Arbel Yehud, (Ariel’s partner) and Iair Horn, whose brother Eitan is still in Gaza, embraced over the news that their loved ones would soon return.
David’s wife, Sharon, let her twin daughters, Emma and Yuli, 4, know that their father is finally, finally returning. The three were captured with David from their Nir Oz home, and returned in the first ceasefire hostage deal. “As long as he’s suffering, I’m suffering alongside him,” Sharon told the New York Times back in October of last year.
Knowing that her suffering will finally, finally, finally come to an end means so much.
In the next few days, we hope we will see many joyful images of reunions.
But most of those returning will no longer be able to hug their family and friends. Our hearts are with their families.
The pain of October 7 and of the last two years can never be taken away. But to see some families finally get a chance to love and care for their traumatized loved ones — to see an end to their waiting, to their suffering — that means the world.
