The chaos of the Iranian attacks is, thankfully, behind us. It was a terrifying moment – days and nights that felt like a haunting echo of October 7, fused with the surreal uncertainty of COVID. We held our children close, waiting in fear, and praying for the return of something simple: normal life.
And then, the messages came from every corner of the Jewish world: emails, texts, and calls. Women I had marched beside, cried with, and stood strong with, reaching across oceans just to say: We are here. You are not alone. We’re thinking of you. You’re constantly on our minds.
The only silver lining was being home. We couldn’t travel. There were no meetings. Instead, there was time – time to spend with my children, time for puzzles and crafts with my three-year-old, and time to watch my older ones fill the house with laughter and friends. I stocked the kitchen with snacks and healthy food. Our home became a kind of refuge – loud, alive, and unexpectedly comforting.
When the US joined the military effort, attacking Iranian nuclear facilities, a wave of relief rushed in. We could finally breathe. This time, something felt different.
I kept thinking about this evolving dynamic – this new/old connection – a deeper kind of love and care among Jewish communities across borders. I know you were with us. You were watching our skies, hoping that the danger would pass. Many of you have families in Israel and your own summer plans, the camps which your children were to attend, were canceled, disrupted. We felt it, both your solidarity and unwavering love.
In the midst of fear, your words gave us strength. After October 7, I often said one of the few sources of hope was this new bond – between Israeli and Diaspora Jews, between women and men standing shoulder to shoulder for truth. Now, I feel it even more deeply.
Mourning the lives lost
We mourn the lives and homes lost. We ache for the trauma that lingers. Yet, at this moment – this pause between chaos and return – I want to remember something else: the fierce friendship. The family we became.
It matters. It will be remembered. It will echo through generations, making us stronger not just as a people, but as a force for healing and for hope.
The writer is an expert on international law and human rights and a recipient of the 2024 Israel Prize. She is the founder and chair of the Civil Commission on October 7 Crimes by Hamas against Women and Children, teaches at Reichman University, and is a senior fellow at the Shalom Hartman Institute in Jerusalem.