Remembering Loss, Honoring Life

Today, October 7, we honor the lives and memories of those who were murdered and taken hostage by Hamas-led terrorists three years ago. We remember the 1,200 innocent Jewish lives that were lost and the families who continue to live with the pain and trauma of that horrific day.

As I reflect on this tragedy, I cannot help but feel the same sorrow and grief that accompanies the loss of a child. My own daughter took her life because of mental illness. The loss of 1,200 people, many of them babies, children, and young adults who never had the opportunity to live the lives that lay before them, reminds me of the grief I experienced when I lost my daughter 27 years ago.

Every life lost left behind a circle of broken hearts. The pain was felt not only by the families of the victims, but throughout Israel and among Jewish communities around the world.

Those who watched the scenes of terror, violence, and murder unfolding on television were shocked by the depths of human cruelty. Christians and Jews alike mourned the innocent lives that were lost in a nightmare that must never be forgotten.

My personal story of loss cannot be compared to the loss of 1,200 lives, nor should it be. Yet this tragedy awakened emotions I once believed had been buried beneath years of healing. It reminded me that grief never completely disappears. Time may soften its edges, but it returns when we witness the suffering of others and recognize echoes of our own heartbreak.

That is one reason I write.

Writing reminds me that countless mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, grandparents, friends, neighbors, and entire communities have endured the pain of loss. We are not alone. Tragedy often brings people together in ways that comfort and strengthen us. No one escapes adversity or loss during a lifetime. Some experience more than others, but suffering is part of the human condition.

The loss of my Jewish brethren, although thousands of miles away, stirred my own feelings of grief once again. Every parent who witnessed the news of the Nova Music Festival massacre could feel the anguish of those who lost their children. We grieved for the families whose daughters were raped, murdered, and violated, and for the sons who were tortured, taken hostage, killed, or forced to endure unimaginable suffering simply because they were Jewish.

Although far smaller in scale than the Holocaust, this tragedy felt to me like a painful reminder of how hatred can still devastate innocent lives. It raises a question we must continue to ask ourselves: How can we allow antisemitism to persist when our founding ideals affirm the equality, dignity, and inherent rights of every human being to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?