Mother's final WhatsApp to son killed at Nova massacre

In the week marking three years since the October 7 massacre, dozens of survivors and bereaved families have launched a digital memorial campaign across social media. The initiative calls on Israelis to return to their phones, pull up the messages they sent and received on the morning of the attack, and share screenshots of those final exchanges, preserving the moments of fear, confusion and loss that changed the country.

Among the testimonies now circulating is that of Natalya Kasruti, mother of Keshet Kasruti Hy"d, who was murdered by Hamas terrorists at the Nova music festival near Re'im. Natalya posted a screenshot of her last WhatsApp conversation with Keshet, showing her repeated attempts to reach him that morning.

At 8:59 a.m., she wrote: "Talk to me." Hours later, at 10:39, she added: "I'm praying that you have no battery or that you're just sleeping even though the whole country is burning around you. Please talk to me." Alongside the image, Natalya wrote: "When I sent you this WhatsApp, you were already gone, my beautiful boy. From that message, our nightmare began. And it hasn't ended. Three years later."

Natalya Kasruti's final messages to her son Keshet z"l

Another wrenching testimony comes from Eyal Eshel, father of lookout soldier Roni Ashel z"l, who fell in battle at the Nahal Oz outpost. Eyal shared a screenshot of the final messages sent at 9:27 that morning, from the phone of Roni's friend, Osher Barzilai z"l. In the exchange, Roni tried to reassure her mother, writing: "Mom, I'm okay, don't worry, I'm inside the command center I have no reception." When her mother replied, "I love you," Roni answered: "Mom I'm fine, don't worry about me, I love you too," followed by heart emojis. Her mother's last message read: "Okay my darling, take care of yourself." It was the last sign of life from Roni before her voice went silent.

In his appeal to the public, Eshel wrote: "On the morning of the massacre, we received a message from Osher Barzilai's z"l number, it was Roni, using Osher's phone. She tried to calm us, but looking back, that was the last time we spoke to her. Since then, her voice has been silent. I'm calling on each and every one of you, even if you weren't directly harmed in the massacre, to go back to your messages from that cursed morning. To the moments of fear, shock and uncertainty. Share them too."

The grassroots initiative is spreading rapidly across the country, with thousands of Israelis responding by posting text messages, voice notes and screenshots from that morning. The exchanges form a raw, painful and historic human document of the transition from a quiet Shabbat morning to the outbreak of terror and war, a reminder of the heavy toll and the open wound that continues to mark Israeli society three years on.