The Sickening Sigh of Relief

Every time there's a terror attack, we feel the pain. We think that there's nothing worse then this. And each time our enemies strike again, twisting the knife a little further. A pregnant mother and her four kids, murdered. A father and his daughter on the night before her wedding, murdered. And then it gets worse. A soldier kidnapped, and then another boy kidnapped. We sit and wait, frustrated by our inability to do anything, refreshing news page every few minutes, listening to the news every hour, maybe theres been an update. Rarely there is. The army is back in Gaza, bombing away, arresting the enemy leaders, bombing bridges...I dont care. All those details used to interest me, but not now. All I wait to hear is the news I havent heard yet. Where is Gilad? How is he? When is he coming home. First Gilad was captured, then Eliyahu. A boy tremping like everyone does, from the spot everyone tremps from. Do they have him, or not? There was always that bit of a chance, maybe they're bluffing, maybe they just heard he's missing and are playing with our emotions. Them we see one of them, those animals, holding a copy if his identity card. Now we know the worst has happened. What are they doing to him? How long will they hold him, taunting us? Then the news, a body has been found in Ramalla. Is it him? Finally hours later, we finally sigh with relief. Yes, his body has been found, yes, he was killed right away. We sigh with relief at the very thing we thought we feared the most, being killed by a terrorist. At least they dont have him to do their horrible things we know they are capable of. At least not another lynch. At least they killed him right away. There are so many things to be thankful for, things we didn't even know we could be thankful for. But it's a sigh of relief that is filled with pain. Another one of us killed, another piece of our flesh ripped out, gone forever. And what about Gilad?