Today was supposed to be a happy day.

7 years ago today, February 20, 2018, after a few years of waiting, we welcomed the arrival of our oldest son, Yaakov Yehoshua Menashe. Last night, we baked his birthday cake, set out a new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles hoodie along with the “It’s My Birthday” sunglasses and ribbon. Our house decorated with birthday fare.

Then we woke up this morning.

I looked at my phone and wanted to pull the comforter back over my head and forget about the world.

They said be careful how much you consume today of the return of Oded, Shiri, Ariel, and Kfir. And if you saw the disgusting spectacle on display today, you know how right that statement is. Rather than look at these infuriating public displays by our enemies (where, apparently, there hasn’t been electricity or other necessities, but there’s somehow been professional-grade printing and marketing services to create the nauseating PR seen today…), I saw a link to dashcam footage of the Israeli police escorting our beloved hostages back to Israel.

I watched the ICRC, whose concern for the hostages almost rival that of Hamas’, pull up in their brand-new company vehicles. I skipped ahead in the footage to when the motorcade began and began to document my thoughts on my phone:

The convoy begins to depart. There is no sound, only the slightly-grainy video.

The roads are winding and open, no other cars there yet. As the police escorts the large cargo vans, the classic Israeli road signs begin to be seen and my heart sinks.

Nachal Oz

Nir Oz

Re’im

Zikim

Ofakim

Alumim 

Sderot

Places we all know by now, but not what they’d like to have been known for pre-October 7. I skip ahead a little more and there are cars parked haphazardly on each side of the roadway.

I’ve seen this before…the aftermath of the Nova festival and the graveyard of cars.

Except now, these cars are with their drivers, who’ve exited and are standing at attention with yellow and Israeli flags.

*At this point, my son Yaakov wakes up and sneaks out of bed to the hallway where he shouts “Surprise!” to my wife and other children. I’m still in our bedroom trying to hold it together.* The rest of the family sings to Yaakov while the procession makes its way through more Israeli highway. Now, there are other cars driving alongside our beloved hostages.

The road signs begin to change to cities and towns that I’ve heard of long before. More blue and white, more yellow, more flags, more and more people standing out to welcome home people they never met but have gotten to know well over the last 500+ days.

*Yaakov comes into my room and I hug him tightly and kiss his head. I call Yair to come in as well, which he does, and I hug and kiss him too. They run back to the kitchen as if nothing was going on in the world.

The weather conditions along the drive are switching back and forth from raining to not. Tears from Heaven, tears on many of our faces. I skip ahead more and more until I finally reach the end of the video, get up and dressed, and try to put myself back together to get everyone out of the house on time.

Oded, Shiri, Ariel, and Kfir – you are finally back in Israel, what we’ve been hoping and praying for for over a year. But this isn’t how we imagined you’d return to us.

Yehi Zichram Baruch. Hashem Yikom Damam.