Rachel Goldberg-Polin’s recently published book, *When We See You Again*, offers a deeply personal account of her family’s ordeal following the abduction and murder of her son, Hersh Polin, during the attack on the Nova music festival in Israel on October 7, 2023. Hersh, 23, was among hundreds taken hostage in the Gaza Strip, a tragedy that thrust Goldberg-Polin and her husband, Jon Polin, into the international spotlight as advocates for the release of the captives.

The book chronicles the Polins’ relentless fight to bring Hersh and the other hostages home, describing this period as a “slow-motion torture device” that inflicted severe emotional wounds. Hersh and five fellow captives—Eden Yerushalmi, Carmel Gat, Alex Lobanov, Ori Danino, and Almog Sarusi—were ultimately executed on the 328th day of captivity in a tunnel beneath the Tel Sultan neighborhood of Gaza. Their bodies, returned in a somber and harrowing state, bore the marks of prolonged suffering and close-range gunshot wounds.

However, Goldberg-Polin’s narrative transcends the immediate horrors of her son’s captivity and death. In a conversation via Zoom from her home in Jerusalem, she emphasized that *When We See You Again* is neither a memoir nor a detailed chronicle of suffering alone. Instead, the book serves as an expression of love immersed in profound pain—a means of survival rather than a conventional story of recovery or triumph.

Goldberg-Polin rejects the framing of her experience as a journey of resilience in the typical sense. She describes the act of writing as a form of “life support” amid unbearable grief, capturing both the depth of her anguish and the enduring presence of love. The book reflects on universal suffering and loss, asserting that all pain shares a fundamental sameness, regardless of circumstances. This perspective challenges notions of competing grief and invites readers to embrace complexity and empathy across different experiences of hardship.

Faith emerges as a central theme in Goldberg-Polin’s story. Drawing on biblical references such as the Book of Job, she contemplates the coexistence of suffering and divine purpose, acknowledging a spiritual framework that shapes her understanding of Hersh’s life and death. This faith, far from simplistic consolation, is portrayed as a sustaining force amid despair, providing moments of solace even in the darkest times.

The book offers an intimate invitation into the heartache borne by those left behind after tragedy, emphasizing the enduring nature of loss while highlighting the power of compassion, memory, and faith. Goldberg-Polin’s account is not only a testimony to her family’s unimaginable grief but also a broader reflection on the human capacity to hold multiple truths and find meaning within sorrow.

As she reflects, “There is an enormous grand tapestry masterpiece in front of us that we are not privy to,” suggesting a belief in a larger design beyond immediate understanding, even as the weight of personal loss remains profound and unyielding.