It was the moment the Israelites had longed for. On Sunday afternoon, 471 long days after they were captured by Hamas in the darkest hour of Israel’s history, three young hostages made the tortuous journey from imprisonment in Gaza to freedom in their homeland.

The release of the three women – Romi Gonen, Emily Damari and Doron Steinbrecher – marks the beginning of a multiphase deal that offers a chance to end the brutal war in Gaza, and the hope of freedom for dozens more. hostages after more than 15 months of torture for them, their families and the country.

But Israel’s joy and relief at the release is tempered by the sadness of what the coming weeks will reveal. Israeli officials believe at least half of the remaining 94 hostages have died. And many doubt that the tenuous truce will last long enough for everything to turn around.

“There is this dichotomy between this state of mind where this is the last day (of life) for their husband or child – and the possibility that the same person could be sleeping in the next room next week,” said Udi Goren, whose family is waiting for the return of the body of his cousin Tal Haimi, who was killed on October 7 and then taken to Gaza.

“I don’t think words can describe the huge difference between these two emotions.”

For the past 15 months, the fate of the hostages has been in the national consciousness in Israel. Their faces from happier times are plastered and re-plastered on buildings and billboards from Haifa to Eilat. The details of their lives fill the daily news bulletins. Rallies asking the government to act to secure their freedom have become a weekly fixture.

But as the clock ticks down toward this weekend’s ceasefire, along with hopes that at least some will finally be freed, there are reminders of how fragile the situation remains. Missiles from Yemen set off the eerie wail of air raid sirens across the country. In Tel Aviv, a Palestinian stabbed an Israeli before being shot dead by a passerby.

Meanwhile, Israeli warplanes continued to bombard Gaza until Sunday morning, bringing the death toll in the fractured enclave since the deal was announced last week to more than 140, according to Palestinian officials.

“There is a glimpse of hope, but it is not the light at the end of the tunnel,” said Daria Giladi, as she and a friend participated in a rally in support of the hostages in downtown Jerusalem on Saturday night. .

“You are happy that the people are coming home, you are happy that the war is over, even for a short time. But there is still a long way to go. Only a third of the hostages must return (in the first six-week phase of the deal). So it’s not enough. “

Even for the relatives of the 33 hostages who will be released in the first phase of the deal – when children, women, the sick and the elderly will be released – the uncertainty is intense.

Sharone Lifschitz’s parents, Yocheved and Oded, advocates of lifelong engagement with Palestinians, were both arrested on October 7. Yocheved was released 17 days later. But the family has no idea of ​​Oded’s fate. When Yocheved returned, he told his family that he was dead. But the hostages released a few weeks later in a ceasefire in November 2023 said they saw him alive.

And so for the past 15 months, the family has waited, hoping against hope for Oded’s safe return, while grappling with the enormity of what that would mean for a frail octogenarian shot in the wrist during the procedure. attack by Hamas who survived for a long time in the captivity of Hamas.

“We all fight for him with the belief that, until we know otherwise, we want him back. If his fate and his strength remain, and he finds a way to live against all odds, we look forward to seeing him,” said Lifschitz, his voice catching.

“(But) he saw the destruction of everything he fought for. And then he must be in the hands of the people who caused (that destruction). And he needs to survive if his health is not stable and he is injured. It’s a difficult dream for anyone—not even the father you love so much.”

For families whose relatives are not due to be released until the second and third phases of the deal – when the remaining surviving male captives, and then the bodies of the dead, are returned – the uncertainty is even greater.

When the last seven-day truce and hostage-for-prisoner exchange took place in November 2023, freeing 110 of the 250 hostages originally seized, many in Israel hoped it would lead to more such deals, and that the remaining hostages could be returned. soon too.

But what followed were 14 months of false dawns, as Israel and Hamas repeatedly failed to reach an agreement, and the number of living hostages continued to dwindle. Claims by far-right ministers in Benjamin Netanyahu’s government that they have repeatedly scuttled a deal have angered the hostages’ relatives. And it leaves those with relatives who don’t need to be released until rounds two or three fear that their time will never come.

Among them was Herut Nimrodi, whose 18-year-old son Tamir was seized in his pajamas, barefoot and without glasses, from his military base near the Erez crossing in the early hours of the Hamas attack.

Nimrodi knew the exact time – 06.49am – of their last message, when Tamir contacted him and said that the rockets had landed at the base. The family learned of his arrest when one of his daughters saw a video on Instagram. But in the months since they have had no sign of his condition. Last November, they marked his 20th birthday without knowing “if he made it to 19“.

“I know that my son’s name is not on the list (for the release of the first phase), because he is a soldier, and we are afraid,” said Nimrodi. “My fear is not only that we will not reach the next stage. But also that (once the first group is released) the lobby (for further releases) will be smaller, because there will be fewer hostages, and they are only men.

Recognition is also widespread that, even among returnees, return is only a first step. Lifschitz says her mother coped “better than most of us” after returning from her incarceration.

But for those who have spent more than 15 months in captivity, the process is likely to be more difficult. Hostages who have been released before speak of being kept in cages, or in complete darkness, being drugged and beaten, and in some cases suffering or witnessing sexual abuse.

Hagai Levine, a doctor who works with a forum that supports families of hostages, said in a press briefing last week that he expects “every aspect of (the hostages) will be affected physically and mentally health”. “Time is of the essence – recovery is a long and painful process,” he said.

But for all the anxiety over the challenges ahead, families are desperate to get the process started. “Everyone in Israel – and of course the families – need closure. We are a wounded society today. We are in trauma. We have not yet begun the post-trauma,” said Nimrodi. “We need to heal. And seeing the hostages return is a healing process for us as a community.”

Lifschitz agreed. “We know that many hostages are not alive and we have many funerals and shivas (mourning periods) to sit through,” he said. “But at least, there is some kind of closure. We will find out. At least we’ll know. “