In 1998, one year after my son Kobi died in the helicopter tragedy in northern Israel, I joined the mission of memorialization and commemoration, making the Yad Labanim organization my second home and adopting the bereaved families as my brothers and sisters. We know that with the passing of time the pain only becomes more acute, intensifies, crystallizes. It becomes another of the body's organs, continuing to pulsate, to transmit messages of pain and longing day and night, without respite. The sorrow is enough to drive one mad, but life goes on and it is our duty to continue along with it.
A blood bond links the family of bereaved – Jews, Muslims, Christians, Druse, Bedouins and Circassians – uniting us around a sanctified purpose. Yet, although we the bereaved are one body united, the truth is that every single one of us, every man and woman living in Israel, should be an inseparable part of this blood bond, this hurting body.
Israel, today, is a magnificent success story: resurrection from the ashes of the Holocaust, resurrection by virtue of heroism. Are we worthy of this sacrifice? Are we justifying the testament of life bestowed on us by our sons and daughters? Are we preserving their purity of spirit, their comradeship, their immense love for the country? Today's Israel, and I say this with great sadness, is a divided country, quarrelsome, rife with scandals and laden with disputes. Unity and kinship are beyond us – we see this across every stratum of society, from the leadership to the last citizen, and the heart breaks time and again. This is not what our children envisioned.
Let's not wait for war to foster peace among us. Let's not wait for war to be able to live together in tranquility. I call on every citizen of this wonderful country, anyone with love in their hearts for their brethren and country, all those who count themselves as proud Israelis – take action! Let us stop for a moment before we berate, hurt, offend. Let us pause for a second before we fight, intolerant and ornery. Before we cast blame, castigate, splinter. We are one people, we all have one pain, we all have one hope.
Citizens of Israel, on the eve of our 70th anniversary of independence, let us praise our 70 years of heroism, courage, might and success. Let us stand tall and proudly raise high the blue and white flag. We will remember the thousands of elderly bereaved parents, who for many long years have carried the unbearable weight of bereavement. On a daily basis, these parents pass on, taking their agony with them. They leave us, full of grief and pain from an entire life with a memory and a photograph.
Sons and daughters of bereaved families, you who suffer from this incessant pain of indescribable loss, I can only solemnly recommend the song written by Elai Botner for Yad Labanim: "And between us the sea, and the sky and perhaps the world, and even they will not separate us – my little child. And while we can try smiling, loving and moving forward, in the end, we will meet again as child, father and mother."
