Six months after October 7, a lament for the paths not chosen

Just over six months have passed since October 7, and life here in Tel Aviv has strangely returned almost completely to normal. But the fear has not gone away.

Since January, I no longer find myself stopping the car at the sound of a rocket siren, pulling out my 4-year-old son Carmel, and lying on top of him to cover his body. I don’t have to calculate which angle is best to shield him from any potential shrapnel flying in our direction, in the hope that it would only kill me and not him. I don’t have to pretend that we’re playing a game of “safe…