Mama Rachel,
On Saturday night, after Shabbat, I turned on my phone to the horrible news that your sweet Hersh was gone. Like all of K’lal Yisrael, I wept profusely.
For 11 months, I’d imagined that you and Hersh would be reunited. That like Noa and Mia and the other young people who were so cruelly captured and then heroically rescued, Hersh was also going to come home. I kept picturing him running into your arms and you giving him a big, warm embrace. You were going to kiss him on his forehead and never let him go.
In my head, there wasn’t another option. Your pleading, your hard work, your bravery, and your prayers – and all our prayers – over the past 11 months were going to bring him back to you. I looked at that photo of him smiling and thought, “What an amazing young man. I know he will survive this and come home soon.”
Now, upon hearing this awful news, we are all thinking of you and your family. As a mother myself, I cannot imagine what you are going through. I don’t know how you summoned up the strength to give a speech at your son’s funeral without breaking down. I don’t know how you had the courage to say those beautiful words, that Hersh is “finally, finally, finally, finally” free.
I’m an observant Jew who has a deep faith in Hashem. But there are times I question Him, times that I get angry and just want to know, “Why?” This is one of those times. The only way I can wrap my mind around it is that human beings have free will, and they often do horrible things. And I believe that there is another reality, and that Hersh is now there, fully surrounded by Hashem’s love, and free. Just like you said.
I know that right now, you are in the depths of devastation. I hope that once you have a chance to take a deep breath, you see that you are surrounded by love. Your Jewish family all around the world has your back. We are here for you now and always will be. Hersh will be remembered; we will not forget him. We will not forget your daughters and your husband.
We will not forget you.
Here in Los Angeles, I passed by a light pole on Fairfax Avenue, which was covered in stickers that said, “Hersh.” I thought of him and wept. It was also a reminder that thousands of miles away from Israel, the Jewish people have Hersh on their mind. I hope that is, in some small way, comforting to you.
Hear me now: There is nothing more you could have done. Hersh has the greatest mother in the world. He must have felt your love and how hard you were trying to bring him home. I know it.
We will keep Hersh’s memory alive. Many of us are asking our fellow Jews to do mitzvot in honor of your son. So many good deeds are being done in his name. His spirit will live on.
Mama Rachel, we are crying with you, but we are also your source of comfort. We are giving you one big hug. You will never be alone. The Jewish community is forever at your side.
Lean on us when you need it. Call on us any time, and we’ll be there for you.
We love you, Mama Rachel. Stay strong. And know that if you feel you can’t stand up any longer, we are here to catch you in our arms.
Kylie Ora Lobell is an award-winning writer and Community Editor of the Jewish Journal. You can find Kylie on X @KylieOraLobell or Instagram @KylieOraWriter.
