Tisha B'Av. Another year, another day of fasting, of mourning. But this time, it's different. This time, the weight of "if only" is crushing.
If only.
Those two words echo in my mind as I sit on the floor, as tradition dictates, thinking about the destruction of our Temples, yes, but more pressingly about the destruction we've witnessed in our own time.
If only the IDF had listened to the intelligence before October 7th. How many lives could have been saved? How many families would still be whole? I close my eyes and I see the faces of those we lost, and I can't help but think – if only someone had taken those warnings seriously.
If only those brave souls at the music festival had been armed. Young people, celebrating life, suddenly thrust into a nightmare. I imagine their terror, their helplessness. If only they'd had a fighting chance.
And then my mind wanders further back. If only we hadn't left the Gaza Strip 19 years ago. Was it a mistake? Did we hand our enemies the very weapons they'd use against us? The complexities of that decision haunt us still.
If only. If only. If only.
It's maddening, this cycle of regret and speculation. It's easy to get lost in it, to drown in the sea of "what ifs." But as I sit here, fasting, praying, I realize something – this isn't just about mourning what was lost. It's about confronting our mistakes, our misjudgments, our human fallibility.
Yes, if only we had done things differently. But we didn't. We couldn't. We're human, flawed and imperfect. And now we're left to grapple with the consequences.
But here's the thing about Tisha B'Av – it's not just about destruction. It's about resilience. It's about picking up the pieces and moving forward, even when it seems impossible.
So today, as I mourn, as I wrestle with these haunting "if onlys," I also make a promise to myself, to my community, to my country. We will learn. We will grow. We will do better.
Because if there's one thing our history teaches us, it's that we endure. We rebuild. We hope.
Even on this darkest of days, even as we're weighed down by "if onlys," we look to tomorrow.
And maybe, just maybe, that's the point of Tisha B'Av after all.
