I want to address the terrible, gut-wrenching news of this past weekend: the murder of six hostages held in Gaza for over 300 days.

 

Most people know of Hersh. He’s the one on the top left of this picture. He’s also the one US citizen of the six. Hersh was kidnapped at the Nova music festival on October 7 after his lower arm was blown off by a grenade thrown by terrorists into the bomb shelter he’d hoped would protect him.

 

Hersh. The 23-year-old son of Jon and Rachel Goldberg-Polin. Rachel became the matriarch for all those desperately wanting to bring the hostages home. She tirelessly met with everyone and anyone who might be able to help, raising awareness and keeping the hostages fresh in our minds and hearts. This past weekend, her son was brought home—with a bullet in his head.

 

Five other murdered hostages were brought home along with Hersh: Eden Yerushalmi, 24; Carmel Gat, 40; Almog Sarusi, 26; Alex Lubanov, 32; Ori Danino, 25.

 

I want to write something meaningful about all this, feel I have to write something, but I am too mixed up right now, too sad, too angry, too tired … too many too(s).

 

So, today I’m doing a variation of an “eleven.” Eleven is a practice I learned from the amazing Jena Schwartz (whom I will be quoting below). Simply write down eleven stream-of- consciousness thoughts that come to mind, as they come. It’s fascinating how the freedom within this structure can lead to lovely, powerful surprises.

 

Instead of my own thoughts, today, however, I’m posting a modified eleven. For the even numbers, I will be sharing quotes I pulled from articles and substacks I read this weekend that rocked me. (I will credit the authors at the bottom of the post. Look for the *s.)

 

Each odd-numbered entry will be Rachel Goldberg-Polin’s words, taken from her eulogy for her dear Hersh. These will be in italics.

(If you have a few minutes, please bear witness to her words in her own voice. The grace, the open-heartedness, the crushing love … Rachel Goldberg-Polin is truly, as Meg Keene, says in Times of Israel: “A matriarch. A force. A lioness. A Jewish mother.”

 

 

After the “eleven”  is a poem I wrote shortly after Oct 7. The Jewish Book Council published it on September 2. I am extremely grateful to them and honored to share it here with you.

But first:

An Eleven for Six

 

1. It’s not that Hersh was perfect, but he was the perfect son for me.

 

2. “The worldwide nation of Israel spent the weekend in one house of mourning.” *

 

3. I want to thank God right now in front of all of you for giving me this magnificent present of my Hersh. For 23 years I was privileged to have the most stunning honor to be Hersh’s mama. I’ll take it and say thank you. I just wish it had been for longer.

 

4. “Rachel Goldberg-Polin believed so strongly that her son Hersh would come home from being held hostage by Hamas in Gaza that she once told me she imagined herself dancing at his wedding and holding his future baby in her arms.”**

 

5. Now I no longer have to worry about you. I know you are no longer in danger. … Now my worry shifts to us, dada, Leebi, Orli, and me. How do we live the rest of our lives without you?

 

6. “Rachel told me she hoped to have the privilege of having all three of her children bury her someday. It breaks my heart to know that instead she buried her son today, on Day 332.” **

 

7. I pray that your death will be a turning point in this horrible situation in which we are all entangled

 

8. “Here in Israel, we’ve had to learn a lot since this war began. … We’ve learned that Hamas is not universally shunned as a terror group, but actually enjoys broad support, including in the West, including among some of the most educated citizens. We’ve seen that much of the Western press is capable of turning a story about a war launched by Muslim fundamentalists into a story about the injustice of the Israeli response, and indeed about the injustice of our country’s existence. …Hersh was an American citizen, born in California—and in California and elsewhere, we learned that other Americans would tear down his poster and those with the faces of other Israeli hostages. We’ve seen the support of the American administration wane as the war wears on, including an explicit demand by the White House to stay out of the southern Gaza city of Rafah—the city where Hersh and the five other hostages were just found by our soldiers, but too late.” ***

 

9. The hope that perhaps a deal was near was so authentic that it felt crunchy. It tasted close. But it was not to be so. … If there was anything we could have done to save you and we didn’t think of it, I beg your forgiveness. We tried so very hard, so deeply and desperately. I’m sorry.

 

10. “We are here to be here. We are here to hold each other up when our knees buckle and our legs will not let us stand. When our hearts are so splintered and shattered we gasp for breath. We are here to be here. To witness each other’s incredulous despair, despair so consuming it seems impossible to still be in a body at all. We are here to be pierced by the keening of mothers whose only sons have been murdered in cold blood …
    We are here to somehow, against all odds, help each other survive.” ****

 

11. Okay sweet boy, go now on your journey. I hope it’s as good as the trips you dreamed about because finally my sweet boy, finally, finally, finally, finally you are free. I will love you and I will miss you every day for the rest of my life. But you’re right here, I know you’re right here, I just have to teach myself how to feel you in a different way. And Hersh there’s one last thing I need you to do for us. I need you to help us stay strong. And I need you to help us survive.

 

 

And here’s my poem, published on September 2, in The Jewish Book Council.

Help Me Remem­ber, Hafiz, When All I Can See Is Nir Oz

                                                                            —after ​“Sacred Dance for Life”

How do I stop my heart from chok­ing on stone?

 

I want to smile, to lift and be lift­ed. Yes—

even to dance. But how

 

to untan­gle my feet, dear Hafiz? How

to unsnarl my arms so I may reach God?

 

Oh, Sacred Dance for Life,

you’ve come to me when I need you

 

most. My fin­gers scroll,

my grief swells. I am not

 

alone in forgetting

we were cre­at­ed for joy. Please,

 

oh poem, oh poet!

Tell me. How

 

to unsee

 

this once child’s sheet, tucked

neat­ly around four corners?

 

Here are the quote credits for “Eleven for Six”:

*I quoted Elissa Wald from her substack Never Alone for Number 2. Elissa’s substack has been a lifeline for me since Oct 7.

** Numbers 4 and 6 are quotes from Elizabeth Bernstein’s moving piece “On Day 330 Rachel Goldberg Polin’s Long Fight to Free Her Son Ended in Tragedy” in the Wall Street Journal.  By they way, if you would have told me on Oct 6 that I would become a paid subscriber to WSJ, I would have looked at you as if you had two heads! I was progressive—all the way. How the progressive movement has thrown the Jews and Israel under the bus. Like Matti Friedman says in his article (see ***), “We’ve had to learn a lot since this war began.”

*** Number 8 is a quote from Matti Friedman’s “Among the Mourners of Zion and Jerusalem” in The Free Press.

**** Number 10 comes from Jena Schwartz’s substack Dispatches from Daily Life. Every Friday, Jena sends subscribers a gorgeous, thoughtful piece. I look forward to reading her words every week. Highly recommend you subscribe, too!

 

 

Thank you for reading, everyone.

As always, I’d love to hear from you. Please write a comment or send me an email.

 

See you soon!

XOXOXO

Diane