How do you prepare to receive the bodies of the fallen hostages? How do you shield yourself from even more pain, grief, frustration, and anger? How can it still hurt as much as October 7, more than a year later? And how do you find even the smallest relief—that thin, painful sense of closure—that the families must also feel, knowing that after all this time without a grave, they can finally lay their loved ones to rest? How does Hamas still hold such power over our lives and emotions when we know they have already lost? I know it’s a childish thought, but all I can think about is how unfair this whole situation is. I dread tomorrow. I don’t know how much more of this cruel reality I can take.
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