As a news reporter in Israel these days, I am sadly forced to read and then report on hundreds of deaths of IDF soldiers, taken too soon.
One thing that haunts me is this: What happens when we get used to hearing about these deaths, because they are happening all the time, more and more frequently, and we just accept it and go on with our day? Choosing vegetables at the supermarket and sending our friends Instagram reels and getting our kids ready for winter and just living our normal lives? --- What then???
What will happen when we read about the death of a fallen soldier and we just don't feel anything anymore? Is there even a way back from that? And how unforgivable would it be, after everything they have sacrificed, just for the privilege of protecting their people and their homeland, our people and our homeland, that is.
But today, I'm checking my Facebook on a random Jerusalem bus to work, squished next to a random Jerusalem lady, when up pops this devastating message:
"November 2, 2023
2:50pm
One bullet to the chest
And it's all over."
Suddenly, it's too much. I'm trying to cry quietly, because public displays of emotion are not really my thing, and I'm scrounging for a tissue in my bag (which I can't find- obviously) and I'm sure my eyeliner is smudged and brown tears track down my face, for a beautiful, beautiful soldier who was killed in battle in Gaza a year ago.
And I know my heart still feels and that all of our hearts still do and that we will be ok - just as long as we never get used to reading about fallen soldiers, just as long as we realize that each 'cleared for publication' message means that a Jewish family has to tear their clothes and bury their son, but they can't go into his room, and they may as well buy shares in Kleenex for the tears which will never stop falling and the ache that will never go away.
This piece was written as a tribute to IDF Sgt. Itai Saadon HY'D, from Har Halutz, a tank commander in the 52nd battalion who fell on November 2, 2023 in a battle in the northern Gaza Strip. Saadon was only 21 years old when he fell. May his memory be blessed forever.
