Noa Argamani was supposed to start her third year of studies in Information Systems Engineering at Ben Gurion University in October. Noa is an excellent student and, during exam season, you can always find her in a specific chair at the university library. "That's Noa's spot, where she sits to study for exams," says Bar Rahav, a friend from her study group. "We would arrive very early in the morning, claim this corner, and dig in."
Throughout the university, you can see "reserved" chairs for Noa, serving as a reminder of her presence within the student community. In the library, her chair lacks a sign or the symbolic yellow color; it's just Noa's chair.
"Noa is a very determined and independent student. During exam periods, when everyone is stressed, she always allocates time and invests all of herself in studying," says Rahav. Noa's classmates are leaving her something for when she decides to return to her studies – they are summarizing the study material for her, just in case.
The letter from grandma is waiting for Hersh Goldberg-Polin
Leah, the 85-year-old grandmother of Hersh Goldberg-Polin, never misses his birthdays. In September, she went out in Chicago to find the perfect birthday card for his October birthday. She sent the envelope by mail, eagerly anticipating when the card would reach Hersh in Israel.
"We received the card in the mail a few days after October 7," says John, Hersh's father. "We haven't opened it, we have no idea what's inside, and we didn't even ask. It's waiting for Hersh in his room."
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The birthday card waiting for Hersh from his grandmother Leah
(Photo: Alex Kolomoisky)
Hersh and his grandmother share a close and special bond. "My mom visits at least twice a year," says John. "In May-June, she was here, and they spent a lot of time together and went to the aquarium in Jerusalem. Even after she sends birthday cards, she always calls to make sure they arrive. When the card arrived at our home, we already knew Hersh was missing, but we decided the card would just wait for him at home. We couldn't believe it would be half a year, and he still hasn't opened it."
'We see a lot of fathers, just not ours'
Since October 7, Nave and Yahel haven't seen their father, Tal Shoham. They were abducted on that Saturday six months ago from Kibbutz Be'eri and released after 50 days along with their mother, Adi, and their grandmother, Shoshan Haran. Their grandfather, Avshalom, was murdered. Tal is still held captive by Hamas.
Tal and Yahel were born a day apart on the calendar. Yahel turned four on January 29, while Tal marked his 39th birthday the next day. Yahel only had a small celebration on her birthday. She and Nave decided that when their dad returns they'll throw a big party with surprises: cake, blessings and confetti. Meanwhile, they draw pictures for Tal and keep a bag of clothes ready for the day he returns. Adi writes about special moments to share with him when he gets settled.
"I want to fly with Dad to a soccer game and have a fun trip to Venice," says Nave, who's 8 years old. Yahel, whom everyone calls Yula, tells visitors: "When Dad was with us, there were fixed places at the table," pointing out where everyone sat. She says there are no fixed places now, "but when Dad comes back, we'll sit in our places again." The immense longing for Tal is expressed in many moments of tears, frustration, anxiety, sadness and anger. Some of Nave's drawings depict what she saw on October 7 and in Gaza.
Every aspect of the daily routine reminds them of Tal. Meetings with other families and fathers. Foods he loves. Games, tickles and bedtime stories. Now Yahel's aunt reads her a story with a mom and dad, and she says: "We see lots of dads, just not ours." So Yahel draws her dad with open arms for a hug and a smile and says:"He does this with his hands, but we can't reach him." And Nave says to Adi, "Mom, do you realize that in three weeks it'll be Passover and Dad still isn't here? We were kidnapped in autumn, it was winter, and now it's spring. It's been half a year, do you realize? Half a year and Dad still hasn't come back to us."
The bedroom that is waiting for Alon Ohel
Alon Ohel managed to return from his big trip to Thailand, where he and his friends decided to move in together in Tel Aviv. "We were supposed to sign a contract and move into the apartment on October 9," Yarden tells Ron, Alon's friend and one of the roommates. "After what happened, we didn't sign. I and another friend were in the military, and the third was on reserve duty. Three months ago, we started looking for an apartment, with a room for Alon."
The friends rented a four-bedroom apartment in central Tel Aviv, and each of them pays a little extra every month for Alon's room.
"His parents brought his bed from home and also brought us a TV for the living room, but we're still waiting for it to truly become Alon's room. First thing, he'll probably bring his bass guitar. He'll also bring his pillow; he has a serious love for his orthopedic pillow. His grandfather once told him, 'You can sleep anywhere with a pillow,' and he took that as a mantra, waiting for him to bring it to the new home."