After two exhausting years of struggle, the current torment is beyond anything we could have imagined. Almost two weeks have passed since the ceasefire took effect and the release of the living hostages. Israel breathed a collective sigh of relief, but for us, this respite only deepens the pain.
We were able to see and embrace some of those who returned from the tunnels, a truly miraculous feeling. Yet simultaneously, we remain trapped in a waking nightmare that has continued for over 750 days, with no clear end in sight.
We are fighting with everything we have for something no parent should ever have to fight for: certainty of our son Omer’s death.
'We are fighting with everything we have'
This is an impossible struggle: fleeing from the terrible news while being drawn toward it at the same time, afraid to know and afraid not to know. Caught between the chilling knowledge of death and the dread of having no closure. Because without certainty, there is no healing, and without a grave, we cannot begin to mourn.
In the past two weeks, we have attended funerals and shiva mourning periods with families who received their loved ones back for burial. They were granted what we still await: a painful reality but a certain one. We witnessed their pain and devastation, but also the relief that comes with ending the fight and the beginning of painful acceptance, an acceptance that was only possible once their loved one finally came home – a devastating but necessary confrontation with the truth.
From a historical perspective, we know there is now a narrow window of opportunity to demand the return of Omer and all the slain hostages still in Gaza. One of these hostages is Lt. Hadar Goldin, whose body has been held for over 11 years. History teaches us that if we don’t fight for this now, this wound could remain open for generations.
Our story has an additional dimension. Omer was born and raised in the United States and chose to leave a comfortable life to volunteer and serve as a combat soldier, as a tank officer. He carried within him a dual identity, Israeli and Jewish-American, which made him a bridge between the two worlds.
From day one, and throughout this entire period, we have had to engage the American government in the fight to bring the hostages home, including Omer, who is also an American citizen. There is something heartbreaking in this realization: Omer fought and gave his life for the State of Israel, and today we understand that at every step, without intensive American involvement, and of course without the brave IDF soldiers, we would not have gotten this far and will not reach the finish line.
At the same time, our community in the United States – our friends, neighbors, synagogues, and entire Jewish communities – shares our pain and continues to wrap us with support. Our tragedy has crossed continents, and our struggle, personal, human, and national, plays out in Long Island and Jerusalem, in Washington and Hostage Square.
Until Omer comes home, we must continue to fight. The people of Israel, here in Israel and throughout the Diaspora, continue to embrace us, support us, and hold this pain with us. They understand our battle because this fight is not only about Omer but about all of us. It is about who we are as a people and about the mutual responsibility that transforms our pain into strength.
The writers are the parents of IDF Capt. Omer Neutra, who was killed and taken hostage during the October 7, 2023 attack on Israel by Hamas.