October 7th, 2023, ripped my world apart. More than 250 souls were stolen, dragged into the darkness of Gaza. Now, after 790 agonizing days, only two remain. One of them is my son, Ran.
Each sunrise is a fresh count of the days since they took him. Over 790 nights I’ve battled despair, clinging to the memory of my hero. He never hesitated when danger called, even with a broken shoulder from a recent accident, awaiting surgery.
The alarms blared, and Ran, a police counter-terror officer, instinctively reached for his uniform. He raced towards the chaos, towards the screams, alongside a friend, determined to help. They rescued dozens from the Nova music festival, pushing onward to reach his fellow officers battling for their lives.
He fought with a courage that became legend. Wounded in the leg, wounded in the arm, he continued, taking down more than a dozen terrorists, shielding families huddled in their homes. The people of Kibbutz Alumim began to call him their Shield.
Two weeks later came the devastating news: Ran was kidnapped. Then, on January 24th, 2024, the unbearable confirmation – he was killed, his body held captive in Gaza. We pray for a mistake, for a miracle, for any sign that he might still be alive.
I dream of him, wounded but defiant, promising to return a hero. And he *is* a hero. To lose that hope would be to shatter completely. When the nightmare began, 255 families shared a bond of unimaginable grief. Each return brought a flicker of light, a piece of our collective heart back to us.
Now, with only two left in the darkness, a terrifying question haunts me: will Ran be forgotten? When will it be our turn? It’s been two months since a deal, brokered with extraordinary effort, brought so many home.
I remember the reunions, the tears, the nation beginning to heal. Just days ago, I met with the U.S. Ambassador, a man whose compassion resonated deeply. He assured us the administration would stand with us until the very end, a promise we desperately believe.
Yet Ran and Sudthisak remain, trapped in a cruel limbo. Every rumor of searches in Gaza ignites a fragile hope, quickly consumed by fear. Each phone call, each approaching vehicle, sends my heart into a frantic race. It’s a game of torment, a deliberate stalling tactic while two families endure endless suffering.
Hamas knows where they are. They must be compelled to fulfill their obligations. How can we move forward while Ran and Sudthisak are still held captive? How can we begin to heal as a nation while their fate remains unresolved?
I implore those who helped bring the others home, those who fought tirelessly for their release, people of conscience everywhere: do not forget them. Do not forget Ran and Sudthisak. Do not give up now, when we are so close.
I promise you, my Ran, your story will not be silenced. The world will know your bravery, your selflessness, your unwavering dedication. We will bring you home.
