By Lior Zisser-Yogev
Community Shlicha (Israel Emissary)
For Israelis, Yom HaZikaron is not just a date on the calendar, it’s a day that immerses all Israelis in the never-ending experience of memory—that bereaved families endure every single day. It’s a day that sanctifies and perpetuates our collective memory.
And this day, the saddest of our year, is followed almost impossibly, by Yom Ha’Atzmaut—Israel’s Independence Day. A joyful celebration of Israel’s existence and tremendous achievements. It is often asked how these two completely different days come one after the other? But I believe these two days are not different at all. They are both Memorial Days—days in which we remember together.
Jewish tradition has always been rooted in collective memory. Our holidays are built around the concept of storytelling and sharing our history with the next generation. והגדת לבנך—”and you shall tell your son” we recite every Passover, two weeks before Israel’s national days. And just as Jewish tradition commands us, on every National Memorial Day and Independence Day celebration we are commanded to tell our sons and daughters of the people we’ve lost, who crafted our history, for them we are forever grateful, and without them we wouldn’t be here today.
Growing up in Israel, I always understood these two consecutive days as part of our national identity. But ever since October 7, the two “Yoms” have become deeply personal. I became a bereaved sister on October 7, the day we lost Ilay, my little brother, who was killed in the early hours of October 7th in Kibbutz Kfar Aza. Since then, every day is Yom HaZikaron, a day full of remembering.
I think about Ilay every single day, and I’m still surprised at the random things that bring up these memories: making coffee in the espresso machine every morning reminds me of how Ilay turned coffee making into a sacred and precise ritual everyone made fun of. Reading Harry Potter with my daughter reminds me of how we would spend hours reading and talking about the book we both loved. Playing board games with the family brings back how Ilay and I turned every simple card game into a serious, uncompromising competition. Seeing names of soldiers who are still losing their lives in the ongoing war in Israel brings Ilay’s image to my mind, thinking of their poor families and what they must be going through.
I remember him as the sweet baby he was, the amazing young man he grew up to be. I see him in my mind at family events, or surrounded by his friends, in his army uniform, or old camp t-shirt, as the little brother I admired, and as the adult I looked up to.
At first, the memories brought only pain. Every recollection of Ilay brought tears to my eyes, a sharp ache that felt unbearable. But as time goes by, these memories invite other feelings. Alongside the grief comes nostalgia, warmth, and even joy. The same memories that would only make me cry are now bringing me comfort and healing, sometimes even laughter. And maybe this process of overcoming loss that I’m experiencing on a personal level is what our nation has learned over centuries of Jewish history. Maybe Yom HaZikaron and Yom Ha’Atzmaut are two parts of the same process we go through every year—one day we remember and mourn, and the next day—we remember and celebrate.
We, as Jews, are experts at both weeping and rejoicing over our memories. The old joke about Jewish holidays—”They tried to kill us, they failed, let’s eat”—captures the essence of our existence. We do not erase the grieving, but we don’t let it define us entirely. As we are reminded of our history, which is sometimes painful, and more often times, remarkable- we are filled with both sadness and joy. These two conflicting, yet complementing emotions are both the result of the same shared memories.
This is what makes the transition from Yom HaZikaron to Yom Ha’Atzmaut so powerful. We move from remembering our fallen to remembering their achievements. We cry over those we lost and then celebrate the very existence they fought to protect.
This year, as our community gathers to commemorate Yom HaZikaron on April 29 and celebrate Yom Ha’Atzmaut on May 4, we will remember together and hold space for both grief and joy in our hearts. We will stand together and remind ourselves that memory—personal and collective—is what binds us together, and that we will overcome this, just like we overcame everything before this.
We invite you to join us for the community vigil Songs of Sacrifice, a special Yom HaZikaron program of words and music. Together, we’ll hear the powerful stories of fallen soldiers through testimonials and song. We are especially honored to welcome Captain Roie of the IDF, who will share his experience and music with our community.
After the vigil, you are welcome to stay for שרים וזוכרים— singing and remembering, a moving tradition of singing Israeli Yom HaZikaron songs, led by our community Shinshinim.
Then, just as Israel does every year, we will shift from grief to celebration. On Sunday, May 4th—all are invited to celebrate Israel’s 77th Independence Day together in a special community fair—White and Blue 2, a private event at the Detroit Zoo.
