By Shmuel Munitz

Copyright ynetnews

They both lost their husbands in the War of Iron Swords. The heavy loss, though, did not close their hearts. Now, Odeya Atiya‑Fenigstein and Rachel Goldberg are each building a new family. In both cases, the new partner was a friend of their fallen husband. In a joint interview, they describe the moments when they allow themselves to break down, their children’s reactions to the news, and the special way their lost loved ones still accompany them. If there is one thing Rachel Goldberg and Odeya Atiya‑Fenigstein are completely sure of, it is that their husbands, who were killed in the war, would fully support the new relationships they have found. “I feel that by virtue of Avi, my late husband, by virtue of his soul, my heart beats with love,” Rachel says. “I feel he pushed me toward this. I believe he is joyful with us with his whole being. I feel him alive, and that doesn’t contradict that I have another heart, that loves another man, who happens to be a close friend that my late husband loved very much.” Nearly two decades separate Rachel (44) and Odeya (26). Despite the age gap, they share a deep kinship of fate. Both became widows in the Iron Swords war . Both found love after their loss. In both cases, the new partner was a friend of their fallen husband. The joint interview took place shortly after Rachel announced her engagement their meeting was filled with strong emotion. Odeya’s first husband, Sgt. 1st Class (Res.) Maoz Fenigstein, 25, was a fighter in the 551st Brigade’s 7008th Battalion who fell in battle in the Gaza Strip on Dec. 19, 2023. A few months ago, two days after Shavuot, Odeya remarried Elhanan Atiya, a friend of Maoz. Together they are raising Teneh, Odeya and Maoz’s daughter, who was only three and a half months old when her father was killed. Rachel’s late husband, Capt. (Res.) Avraham Yosef Goldberg, 43, from Jerusalem, was a military rabbi in Battalion 8207, in the Alon Brigade. He was killed in southern Lebanon on Oct. 26, 2024, two days after Sukkot, leaving behind his wife and their eight children. Last month Rachel announced her engagement to Aminadav Rotenberg, himself a widower, who has worked alongside her late husband for years at Himmelfarb High School in Jerusalem. Rachel and Odeya first met in weekly Torah classes designed for war widows held in the community of Yad Binyamin. At their recent meeting, Odeya congratulated Rachel on her fresh engagement, and both said that marrying again relatively soon after losing a spouse had felt natural, as much as the fact that their previous husbands still have a very present role in their lives, even as they build new relationships. “I would say that Avi is present a thousand percent,” Rachel says. “I noticed that the engagement ring Aminadav bought for me, the one I was really drawn to in the jewelry store, has five diamonds. After a few days I realized that for me it might symbolize two pairs, and G-d in the middle. Aminadav and I are the new couple, but each of us comes with a whole world of love. “I knew Noa, Aminadav’s late wife. Avi and Aminadav were close friends. I knew how much Avi loved Aminadav, and I know how much Aminadav loves Avi.” Rachel Goldberg: “I think Western society has confused us a bit with the idea that you must finish grieving before opening your heart. I will not finish grieving until I am 120. I love Avi with all my being, and at the same time I choose to live and to rise from the dust.” Odeya: “It was never a secret. The fact that Elhi (Elhanan) is also a friend of Maoz, and that he knew him, really eased things for me. I didn’t have to talk about Maoz or the situation. Elhi even knew our house and our relationship to a certain extent he saw it. That helped me greatly. I’m not a person who hides things I must say what I feel and want. “The situation is very triggering, because the last time I was in a relationship was with Maoz, and now there are things I’m doing for the first time, with another partner. It is overwhelming, and it’s really hard for me to hide. So in this aspect as well, the longing and the pain are absolutely here.” What is important to know when entering a relationship after such a severe loss? “I’ve only been married a few months, but from my perspective I already know it demands a lot of effort and a lot of work. It’s a hard choice, one that has good prospects, but you need to know that you are going to work on it hard, every day, stretching yourself to the limit of your ability, and even beyond.” Thoughts of Maoz, she says, in fact help her on the new path. “I feel it is a joint project of mine and Maoz. On the way to the first date, and in every situation where I felt stressed or that something was more than I could bear, I would speak with Maoz in my mind and say: ‘Come with me, be with me there… I can’t carry this alone make it easy for me. I feel he is there by my side. “I’m sure there are other paths that are good for other widows, but as far as I’m concerned, this makes it very easy for me.” Do you feel that Maoz gives you his blessing? “Oh, I’m sure of that. I know it one hundred percent. We had a conversation about it when there were already casualties in the fighting, when there were some names cleared for publication in a circle around us. I asked him jokingly: ‘If you die, should I remarry?’ Then he immediately said, ‘Of course.’ “The conversation continued cynically there was no scenario in my mind that something like this could happen. Suddenly, he went serious: ‘Do you think that talking about this is funny?’ It really startled me. Maoz was the most cynical person on earth he used humor a lot, and it was really surprising and alarming to see him so serious.” During the Shivah, Odeya discovered that Maoz had signed a “conditional Ghet”, a halachic document stating that if he were to go missing in action for a year without any news of his fate, she would be considered divorced and free to remarry. In hindsight, she sees it as further proof that Maoz wanted her to continue her life and remarry if he didn’t return. “When Maoz called my father to consult him about it, my father said, ‘Listen, if this weakens you or if you feel it drains you or makes you a little sad to do this kind of thing, then don’t do it.’ Maoz responded confidently, ‘No way. I’m looking out for my wife. Why would that be hard for me? I wish her only well’,” she recalls. How did your new partners feel stepping into a role previously held by a close friend? Wasn’t that strange at first? Rachel: “Yes, it was definitely strange for Aminadav. I wasn’t comparing them at all, but he told me that it was a little weird. “For me, he is not a replacement for Avi he is in no way instead of him. The first words Aminadav said to my brother when he came up with the idea were, ‘I’m not a Tzaddik like Avi.’ Frankly, Aminadav is really a Tzaddik, just in a different way,” she says with a laugh. “They share many strengths, especially emotional, mental, social, and ethical, but there are also differences.” Odeya: “It’s a loop you can easily fall into, but we choose not to. Elhi is not Maoz. He brings other things, and he brings out other things in me. He knows how much I love Maoz, and he also knows how much I love him and how happy I am that he’s with me now.” ‘Give birth’ to another heart Odeya teaches Israel studies and history at the Regavim girls’ high school in Kfar Etzion and lives in Susya, in the South Hebron Hills. Rachel is a registered nurse currently training to become a midwife and lives in Jerusalem. Both are observant Jews, a fact they only later realized may have shaped their decision to remarry. “One female doctor, who isn’t religious, asked me how it could be that all the religious women seem to move on and remarry,” Rachel recalls. “I told her I hadn’t really thought about it, but maybe Judaism, or Torah, has such a powerful drive for life and love that it recognizes those values aren’t in conflict. “I think Western culture has confused us a bit with the idea that you have to finish mourning before you can open your heart. But that’s not realistic. I will be in mourning until I’m 120. I love Avi with all my heart, and at the same time, I choose to live and to rise from the ashes.” How does the decision to remarry relatively quickly connect to Judaism? “To me, the strongest Jewish message is about life, Rachel says. “The world was created to do good, to add life. People often see a dead person as someone whose story has ended, but in Judaism, the righteous are considered alive even in death, because their message lives, their soul lives. “Choosing life, love, and joy, to me, that’s a Jewish value that transcends religion. I don’t see Judaism as a religion but as a nationality. Jews are a people whose mission is to bring the Torah of life into the world. The commandment to ‘choose life’ is deeply present in everyday Jewish life.” Odeya adds, “Also, in our community, there isn’t an option to be in a long-term relationship without getting married, like it exists in secular society. Maybe our community also knows how to absorb this kind of transition more naturally, and that helps. I feel that’s a practical reflection of the core element Rachel just described.” Rachel: “The idea isn’t to dwell in the past, but to be immersed in infinite love and infinite longing, and within that, to give birth to another heart. It’s an emotional miracle.” Have you received any negative reactions? Rachel: “I’m not a social media person, so I’m not really online, but as I was told, there hadn’t been a single negative comment. We were warned it might happen, but we haven’t seen any bad responses.” Odeya: “Not really. It never really reached me. When I saw that a website had reported my engagement, I checked out the comments just for fun and saw one annoying remark. That was enough, so I just stopped looking.” A school that paid a heavy price Rabbi Avraham Yosef (Avi) Goldberg was called up at the start of the war. Later, he took part in fighting Hezbollah terrorists in villages in southern Lebanon. “Every house in the area they were operating in was packed with weapons. No one believed the scale or what they could have done to us in the North,” Rachel says. “In one of those houses, trained Radwan commandos ambushed the unit. Six soldiers were killed in the clash, including Avi.” While serving in the reserves, Avi was the battalion’s military rabbi. “People say he was like a father to the unit, a figure who connected everyone, loved everyone, uplifted everyone. He truly knew how to see people and offer encouragement. He was a rabbi and a fighter. Beyond tending to the soldiers’ religious needs and answering halachic questions, he also strengthened their spirits. “Avi’s memorial is held on the 24th of Tishrei, now recognized as Israel’s national memorial day for the victims of the Oct. 7 massacre. My Avi was a private man, but he also belonged to all of Israel,” Rachel says. “It makes so much sense that it turned out this way. The battle he and his comrades fought in Lebanon opened the door to everything that happened later in Iran, and even to the fall of the regime in Syria.” Despite being exempt from reserve duty due to his age and status as a father of eight, Rabbi Avi Goldberg volunteered to serve. “I remember that at 38, he said, ‘I feel like I can still contribute to the people of Israel, not just as a civilian, but also in the army,’” Rachel recalls. “He served as an educator rabbi at one of Jerusalem’s largest religious high schools as well as a rabbi with the Tzohar organization, known for officiating weddings for non-observant couples with warmth, enthusiasm and deep sensitivity. “Each year he led Yom Kippur prayers at Kibbutz Ginosar, which is a secular Kibbutz.” The couple also served in Memphis, Tennessee, for three years as emissaries. “In every role, people noticed him as he had a great spirit and a huge heart.” Her fiancé, Aminadav Rotenberg, is also an educator at Jerusalem’s Himmelfarb High School and served last year as head of Junior High School. His late wife, Noa, died of cancer four years ago. Avi had been the school’s rabbi, a homeroom teacher and the coordinator of its community engagement program. “Avi and Aminadav were close friends at work. They truly loved one another,” Rachel says. “Avi and I used to come together to play music at memorial events for Noa, Aminadav’s late wife, and even at their son’s bar mitzvah. Aminadav is also a friend of my older brother and a cousin of my sister-in-law. I feel so lucky that Aminadav knew Avi so well and l Himmelfarb High School suffered heavy losses in the current war, with an unusually large number of its graduates killed. “There’s a well-known recording of Hirsh Goldberg-Polin, Aner Shapira and Ben Zussman standing together in eighth grade reciting Mishnah with their classmates. Avi was the one who filmed that video,” Rachel recalls. You also knew Noa, Aminadav’s late wife. “Yes. I remember we had a few conversations here and there at family celebrations, since my brother’s wife is Aminadav’s cousin. I remember Noa’s energy, her gentleness and depth, her positivity and her warm presence. She radiated goodness, but she also wasn’t naïve. She had a healthy, straightforward strength about her.” How did the relationship with Aminadav begin? “My brother, Michael, was daring, and a few months after Avi was killed, he said to me, ‘Look, you can throw me out if you want, but when you’re ready, I have an idea,’” Rachel recalls. “When Aminadav and I began telling people we were dating, we counted at least 30 who said, ‘We thought about it!’ including his late wife’s mother. At the engagement gathering, my brother asked, ‘Raise your hand if you’d thought of it,’ and quite a few hands went up.” How did your children react to the new relationship and engagement? “Each one responded based on their age and stage in life. My oldest is 21, the youngest is five. They’re all happy it’s him as they understand that Aminadav is a wonderful person. The little ones adore him. Of course, they still miss their father, but they love the stories Aminadav tells them before bedtime and enjoy that he’s such a fun person. “With the older ones, the absence of Avi is more deeply felt. But that doesn’t contradict the understanding that this new path is the right one, even if it’s strange for them to see their mother with someone else. “Aminadav has three children from his previous marriage. They know and respect me. It’s been longer for them since Noa died, and while they still miss her deeply, they also very much want their father to be happy.” A couple they once matched brought them together Maoz Fenigstein was killed by a sniper’s bullet in Jabaliya. “We were told that our soldiers went out for an ambush on a certain route, and Maoz was stationed at the sniper post inside a building,” Odeya recounts. “There were other soldiers on the roof and another firing position. When Maoz finished his task, he went to check if they needed help. One of the soldiers thought he saw movement of the enemy through his scope, and Maoz offered to take a look and help him verify. Just as he looked through the scope, he was shot in the head by an enemy sniper.” After his death, his family donated his organs. Maoz and I had talked about the possibility. I asked him, ‘If you die, should I remarry?’ and he said without hesitation, ‘Of course.’ Fenigstein was called up already on Oct. 7, 2023 on Simchat Torah, the day the war broke out. “We didn’t yet understand the situation, like everyone else,” says Odeya. “There was already a sense that this was more serious than just rockets, but Maoz didn’t think it was the scale of a war. “He took a small bag, barely packed anything. It wasn’t an emotional goodbye we just said ‘Bye,’ knowing we’d see each other soon.” How did you meet Elhanan? “Elhi is a friend of Maoz from the Bnei Netzarim yeshiva. I already knew him he’d been at our home a few times, spent Shabbat with us. We used to see him at group gatherings. “A bit after the one-year memorial for Maoz, Elhi quietly inquired about me through a couple that Maoz and I had matched, who are friends of ours, to see if I was open to it. At first they didn’t tell me who it was. I just knew it was someone from Maoz’s yeshiva.” What was your reaction to the idea? “It moved me that people saw me in that respect, that I was available and open to a new relationship, because I wanted that, too. “I wanted a relationship, but society plays a role in making it happen. People were very careful around me they didn’t know whether I was open to it or not. Just the realization that someone was looking at me with interest and was ready to move past the label of ‘widow,’ which can be intimidating, touched me deeply.” Even before they told her who it was, Odeya suspected it might be Elhanan. “There were little things he did, things I wouldn’t have noticed before, but afterward, considering his vibes, I thought it must be him.” Elhanan Atiya, or Elhi, as Odeya affectionately calls him, is a student of education who served in the reserves during the war. This is his first marriage. “When asked if she expects her two-year-old daughter, Teneh, to call him “Dad,” Odeya answers: “I hope so. But it should be entirely her choice. When she sees a photo of Maoz, she calls him ‘Dad.’ She calls Elhi by his name. I call him ‘father Elhi,’ so that she considers him as the father who raises her. I think that would be good for her, but she is free to choose whatever she wants.” How do you feel about the fact that he still serves in the reserves? “I’m not his mother he can do whatever he wants. But if he asks me, then yes, of course he should go to the reserves. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no good enough reason not to serve. This is an important war. I already gave the most precious thing I had – the life of my husband – so there are no excuses. You have to do what’s needed to win this war.” As a reservist’s wife for the second time, what do you think about the debate over exemptions for ultra-Orthodox men? “In principle, I believe that someone who studies Torah protects us just as much as someone on the front lines. But if there are people who neither study Torah nor fight, that hurts me. And I think it should hurt them too. Look at this enormous thing happening, how can you not be part of it?” In the new lives you’ve built, are there still moments of emotional breakdown? Rachel: “There are moments when I simply sit next to Aminadav and cry over Avi, miss Avi, and he just stays with me, containing my pain. He knows exactly what I’m crying about.” Odeya: “It’s a very vulnerable, sensitive situation. Of course it is overwhelming, harboring a lot of pain. I don’t think anyone on the outside can really understand this feeling. I’m incredibly close to Elhi, and at the same time, in the very same moment, I miss Maoz deeply. And the only one who can hold me in that moment is my partner, even though I’m missing someone else. “Another widow who remarried asked me, ‘So, how is it going? Are you still in shock?’ And the answer is ‘Yes’. I probably will be for a while. Of course we have a good life together, but there are bumps in the road of life that we have to overcome.”