My Recount of October 7th

It was early Saturday morning, and my dog, Summer, uncharacteristically woke me up because she heard a peculiar noise that scared her. The noise was the Red Alert Siren, a sound that, over the past month, we’ve unfortunately become accustomed to.

Having lived in Israel for the better part of a decade and being married to a native Israeli, I knew all too well what that sound indicated. Israel was under attack. We jumped out of bed and ran to the staircase for protection, still unaware of the magnitude of the situation or what was happening in the south of the country.

We huddled in the staircase with the neighbors in our building and heard the first explosions as Israel was under a massive rocket terror attack from Gaza. We immediately turned on the news once it was safe to go back inside. The first images that came out were of a white pickup truck carrying Hamas terrorists with their faces covered and weapons drawn. Throughout that dark Shabbat, the news only became worse. We learned about the brutal attacks against innocent civilians living in the kibbutzim and towns closest to the Gaza Strip. Next, word spread about the attack on the Nova Festival, a space where people gathered to celebrate peace, dance, and enjoy the end of a Jewish holiday. Reports started to come out that there were also hostages, including elderly women and children, dragged into Gaza. I kept thinking to myself, how could this get any worse?

I was glued to the TV all day, only taking breaks to cry, text my friends and family, or walk around aimlessly in my living room as I tried to “wake up” from this living nightmare.