Itay.
Open
Gentle
Curious
Sensitive
A phenomenal listener.
Can you hear all the prayers from around the world?
Count all the tears?
Read all the posts?
I'm sure you can.
I hope you can.
What must it be like to be laid to rest after all you've been through?
The 98 days alive in Gaza - and the 326 days not?
To suddenly be back in Be'eri - with Merav and Dan and their children at your side, loving you.
What was it like - to see your sister?
She who has stood on every stage and spoken on every channel.
She who gave everything she had when she had nothing at all for those 98 days and was even on stage fighting for you during your very last moments....
...and then continued to fight despite your violent end, for you - and for everyone else.
She is phenomenal.
Strength.
Grace.
Power.
Did you see any of this?
I think you did.
I hope you did.
She - next to you at last - the world's best uncle.
What was it like today - to be home?
Surrounded by your remarkable friends?
Their devotion.
Their heartbreak.
Their disbelief.
Their relief.
Their admiration and their love for you.
It's infectious.
It's contagious.
It's rare.
It's extraordinary.
What was it like - to see your Adam again?
"Every day screams your absence," he wrote. "Your unique existence."
Terms of endearment, the title of the greatest and saddest English film, from your dearest friend on earth.
How he loves you, how he misses you.
But you're home - after this horror that fell upon you.
The witnessing of violence of those you love.
The terror of being dragged away - and "kept."
The suffering and filth and counting of the days.
Yet even in there, you were a hero.
There's a little girl who survived this, who loves you so - our Emily.
And Noa said you saved her life.
And then there is this stranger writing.
This ola chadasha who returned to Israel when the war began.
To write about the hostages - to tell their stories - to educate the world and make it care.
And you were the first, because you jumped off your poster.
I saw a person, a heart and a soul.
And through learning your story, I was introduced to your world.
To your sacred Be'eri...
And today you were laid to rest.
At last, at last, at last.
Between your parents - Rafi and Orit - both murdered on October 7th.
I pray you are all together again and can send Merav and your family strength.
I pray you now know things that we don't know and that you can help us see them.
Keep sending your signs and keep listening.
Because I'm hearing from people around the world who have never met you -
But adore you...
And are grieving...
And praying...
And lighting candles, too.
"You get into a lot of hearts with your kindness, much more than you know," wrote Adam.
May your memory forever be the enormous blessing it has already proven to be.
This website is dedicated to the memory of Itay Svirsky.
Born February 17th, 1985 - Taken October 7th, 2023 - Murdered January 13th, 2024
In case you want to help: This is a project that began right after the war did, when I flew to Israel alone, created a website and started writing. I stayed four months the first time, earning nothing and relying on savings and donations. I am now saving to move back to write a book. I plan to live between Kibbutz Be'eri and Hazerim (where most Be'eri residents are living) and write the stories and the ongoing trauma as they work to rebuild, combined with the trauma living in the US at this time. Any donation would be used wisely and accepted with deep gratitude. Click here to donate. Peace and Shalom, Melanie
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