On Friday, October 6, the Erlichman family got up from the unofficial shiva for their eight-year-old son, Yonatan, who died from sudden heart failure. In less than 24 hours, the family – Ira, a pediatric intensive care physician, Yael, a psychotherapist specializing in trauma and personal and organizational resilience, and their three daughters, the return to routine segued into the terrible national tragedy. Says Yael, “I don't think I even went through the process of asking questions about what now? The path chose me and I’m just following it.”
And she’s been on that path ever since, rooted in the collective trauma while holding her private pain deep inside. She uses the professional tools she has spent her life acquiring to help as much as she can. She has a degree in Psychology and Literature, her Masters dealt with art therapy, group facilitation and trauma-focused psychotherapy, and her doctorate from Bar-Ilan University is in Philosophy, on a Psychoanalysis and Interpretation track. “It’s a track that combines body and soul, understanding the human soul and human existence and searching for meaning.”
Why do you think your own soul was attracted to engage in trauma?
“Over the years, I had a number of intimate encounters with trauma. These experiences led me to years of specialization and therapy with those whose worlds had been destroyed – behavioral and psychiatric disorders, crisis intervention, sexual abuse, youth at risk, shell shock and terror victims…” Today, her tools are more relevant than ever. “I see how the professional tools of personal and communal trauma treatment and strengthening resilience are becoming so critical for so many people, communities and organizations.”
From the personal challenges she's had to deal with – including her own complex health issues – and together with the knowledge she's accumulated, she believes that even from the depths of trauma, suffering and pain, it is possible to grow. "When you are able to flourish after crisis, both at a personal and a wider level, there's something about it that changes reality. We manage to channel our action into a positive place, and strengthen the weaker links. People dealing with trauma are fighting for their lives no less than the person courageously fighting an injury. We are all coping with difficulties and challenges. How you cope, the question 'what do I do with this now?', is something I'm very connected to."
Yonatan, her only son alongside three daughters, was a child who was all heart. "Sensitive, with the emotional depth of an adult and with a full of joie de vivre,

infectious laugh, a child of friends and football…" Yael stills speaks of him in the present tense, as if he'll burst through the door any minute. "An adorable child, among adults too, among children. He has an effect on everyone. Everybody loves him."
Despite his young age, Yonatan managed to leave a mark in the hearts of those around him. "He could always see the other person, knew what their hearts wanted… he read me even before I read myself. It was amazing. He had the ability to comfort and support, a spark in his eyes, a child full of love and giving. It sounds strange to speak like this of an eight-and-a-half-year-old child, but he really was special."
On the day before Yom Kippur, Yonatan got up early and went to Selichot (prayers). When he came home, he complained he wasn't feeling well. "I was sure he was just tired because he'd got up early. Later he said he felt weak. I checked his temperature, his throat, but it all looked normal." Ira came home from the hospital around noon and the house was busy with final preparations for Yom Kippur.
When Yael went into the bathroom, she found Yonatan unconscious.
Her screams echoed around the house for days.
Within seconds, both parents took control of their own specialties. Ira started resuscitation, Yael asked Ori (their oldest daughter) to bring the First Aid bag from the car and called her niece for help. The neighbors and the local medical team also arrived quickly. Yael asked Alma to leave the house with Roni (her other daughters) so they wouldn't witness the sight.
"And they all started fighting for Yonatan. It was unbelievable teamwork." After about 14 minutes, they managed to restore his pulse, and when he was under full artificial respiration, they rushed him to Hadassah Hospital in an ambulance, accompanied by his father.
You're a doctor and a trauma expert. What are you saying to each other during those moments? Did you understand what was happening?
"We realize the worst has happened and we're totally focused on doing what we can. We are not speaking, but just looking at each other's eyes. Each of us are engaged in doing what we know best."
Yael stayed at home – which looked like a battleground – with a floor ready for washing before the holiday, and medical equipment strewn around, with pots on the stove for the meal before the fast.
"I contemplate what's happening and I understand I have one child hanging between life and death in hospital, and another three daughters who are alive and here and need me."
She asked all the people now in the house to go and leave them alone. They sat together in the living room hugging and crying. "I slowly explained to them that I'd found Yonatan unconscious, that he apparently felt unwell and collapsed, that we treated him at home and that now Dad has gone with him to the hospital, where he'll get the best treatment possible. I said we would pray together and not leave each other. I said it again and they asked questions. It was important for me to explain to them what happened and how the story transpired."
They gathered their senses, washed the floor, showered and dressed in their holiday best. They couldn't bring themselves to eat though, and they exchanged prayer in the synagogue for an intimate service with a few close friends in their living room.
"The prayers were like no others I have ever experienced. Words diluted with tears, chazanim (prayer leaders) choking with grief. In those moments, with prayer in the house, we had an anchor to grasp. The prayer was replete with song, something that really emerged from within, and I wanted that to accompany us in the coming days in hospital."
Indeed, it was the prayers that continued to accompany them. Prayers of broken hearts… prayers that became melodies. They played music at home and next to

Yonatan's bed. Sad songs and joyful songs, secular and sacred – "Modeh Ani" by Meir Ariel, which they had sung together on their wedding day, alongside "HaMalach HaGoel Oti," which Yonatan loved so much.
"It was music that gave us the strength to be with Yonatan, melodies from the source of life, sounds that connected us to each other… it was these tunes that escorted us to the final separation… to the operating room in which Yonatan's organs were removed for donation.
Five days after his cardiac arrest, his family buried him.
"During the week, when we understood there was no way back, Ira couldn't stop thinking what the point of trying to get Yonatan back to life was if we'd already reached the point of no return. And then it dawned on us that because of that, we were able to donate organs and save the lives of five other people.
That was the best gift and answer for us, amongst many huge and difficult questions left open, and I don’t know if they'll ever be answered. Also, we were privileged to be able to say goodbye. To be engulfed and hugged by our beloved family, our wonderful community, and our workplaces that are both communities and a second home."
Because Yonatan passed away on the eve of the first day of Sukkot, the holiday canceled out the shiva. Instead, the Erlichmans opened their sukkah to family and visitors. "It was a type of shiva without a shiva. We built another sukkah for the youth and they came here and didn’t stop singing and playing their instruments."
And through all this, are you a mother, a professional, or both?
"I was on autopilot. All the stuff I'd dealt with all my life was simply part of me. I was totally a mother, but a mother who still manages to be present in the here and now. To give the girls tasks, to conduct the hard conversations."
A Leader's Toolbox
Yael is 41, the third of four sisters. She grew up in Petach Tikva. Her mother was second-generation to a Holocaust survivor, a history teacher and lecturer at Yad Vashem, so the memory of the Holocaust was prominent in their home. Her father was an engineer in Israel's defense industry and passed away seven years ago. Yael was raised in a traditionally religious home (her definition), but followed the classic path of a young religious woman, studying in an ulpana and becoming a counselor in the Bnei Akiva youth movement. As a teenager, she read Nietzsche and Victor Frankel. After high school, she volunteered in a youth village and continued on to the IDF, where she became an officer and trainer in Air Force Intelligence. Following that, she studied in a midrasha before embarking on her academic studies at Bar-Ilan.
Mutual friends introduced her and Ira. After marrying, they lived in Beersheva, where he was studying Medicine. Today, Ira works at the Hadassah hospitals at Mount Scopus and Ein Karem in Jerusalem. Later, they moved to Nofei Prat, a mixed religious-secular community overlooking the breathtaking views of the Judean Desert.
We meet in Yael and Ira's cute and spacious house. Over the years they had four children: Ori (16), Alma (14), Yonatan, and Roni (6). After years of involvement in therapy – trauma therapy in particular – Yael switched to deal more with social and educational issues. She was a partner in the establishment of Nirim, a special education school, and Gvanim, a resilience center in Binyamin for family therapy. She also served as a Partnerships Manager for HaKeren LeYedidut, and is a member of the Managing Committee in the Midrasha for Social Leadership in Ein Prat.
"All this intensive social activity took me away from the trauma therapy world into the public space. Personal processes became processes with groups, organizations and systems."
In recent years, Yael has been working with the Maoz organization, as Director of Programs and Professional Development as well as leading the Resilience Department. "I accompany leaders, organizations and institutions, employing knowledge, philosophy and tools for intervention into crisis and emergency situations, both on a personal and an organizational level. Resilience is an essential part of a leader's toolkit and the better we succeed in strengthening resilience in our various circles of influence, the more firmly we'll stand as individuals and as a nation during periods of crisis."
Over the last few years, Yael has been coping with health challenges, and she's been in a wheelchair for the last 18 months. "I think the first thing I said to my

children was 'What good fortune it is that we have each other. We can get through this together and our home will always be full of joy and friends, no matter what.' I felt I needed strength from them and they need it from me. I wouldn't have chosen this challenge at all, but it's bonded us into a united, courageous and happy family. A gang that knows how to enjoy themselves but are also very aware of themselves and I think this whole situation was an anchor for us in many ways. For example, during Covid, when Ira and I were working 24/7, it was a home that managed, with a daily routine and assigned tasks, and it brought out the best in everybody."
And apart from the kids, how are you, as a young woman, coping with this physical reality?
"I believe I'm going to be able to walk again and I'm working hard to that end. The switch to a wheelchair and the loss of independence is not easy. It was also hard for me to learn to accept help. I've learned a lot from this, gained a new perspective on the world and on people who have to deal with this kind of reality all their lives."
"The Torah says 'And choose life.' Is there anyone who would not choose life and prefers death? I think the deeper significance of choosing life is a choice from responsibility, not just a choice between good and evil. The human responsibility to choose good. I asked my two older girls this week what was the hardest moment for them over the last month. Both replied that it was my screams when I found Yonatan unconscious. They cannot get it out of their heads. And I thought about what happens to us when the worst happens, when all the defenses collapse. My insight was that even during the pain one needs to find the strength, often with huge effort, even if one is devastated at the moment.
The ability to continue to choose and to do good, to continue to act responsibly and kindly, to act ourselves and to encourage others. And there are times one needs to step up and lead, with leadership that can see the general good and responsibly lead the rehabilitation and blossoming anew."
"…Israeli society is one thin human tissue. A tissue of belonging, of hope, of pain. Each of us is a part of that sensitive tissue. This national pain is demanding us to find the way to heal our collective body. And it doesn't matter if we've experienced trauma directly or indirectly. We all need to recognize our pain. Each of us has the power to grow from the pain, to ease the pain of others and even heal it."
Yael feels it important to add that "Ernst Bloch, known as 'The Philosopher of Hope,' said that 'Hope is optimism with a scarf of mourning.' Hope is not naïve optimism or faith that it will all work out. On the contrary, it's a conscious choice from a state of uncertainty, and a belief that alongside the mourning and suffering in the world, one can also repair and change. An entire country is enveloped in mourning, for our loved ones who will not be returning, for unfulfilled dreams, and for wounds to both body and soul. Hope stems from a deep place in our soul. Hope is the ability to act, to wrestle, to repair, to illuminate the darkness."
"… On October 7, the State of Israel was struggling in one of its more complex periods, amidst a crisis of trust between civilians and between citizens and the government and its institutions. A crisis that grew and became even more fractured, and we'll have to confront it and rehabilitate it over the coming years. Human nature is a little like nature outside. It contains powers of building as well as powers of destruction. Even a burned forest knows how to grow again. We are very shocked by this devastation, but the question is how are we coping with it, and how do we manage to create some element of firm ground despite everything going on around us?"
What are the stages of rebounding from crisis, and from this catastrophe in particular?
"The first stage is alarm, the stage of reaction to the tragedy. Here we try to understand what we need to change in our perceptions. In the first two days after Simchat Torah, there were feelings of shock, chaos, fear, despair and anger, and immediately after, in that same week, we saw adrenalin, national enlistment and an uplifting of the spirit.
The second stage is the stage in which we switch to 'war routine,' from sprint to marathon. Here we sober up a bit and learn to cope with the difficult reality. There are signs of erosion, weakness and even a crumbling of the sense of belonging. There's a rise in anger and conflict, triggers, a drop in motivation, more depression and anxiety, and new risk groups emerge in the wake of the situation.
The third stage is rehabilitation and recovery, a stage of rebuilding and acclimation, an opportunity for doing and continued rehabilitation in expectation of the "day after."
Can we say that an entire country is in trauma?
"Collective trauma affects the basic texture of society. Apart from the physical danger, collective trauma is also a crisis of meaning. It's a phenomenon in which traumatic events impact not only individuals hurt directly, but also wider groups, like communities, groups, society or culture. The trauma arouses foundational beliefs, shakes the sense of basic security and the sense of abandonment and a lack of trust in those who were supposed to protect me and I trusted. It's an ongoing process of attempting to cope with an extreme situation impacting society's functioning and values."
Reorganizing Within the Chaos
Yael says that after traumatic events, people find the strength to adapt and return to life, although there will always be those who develop post trauma. "Trauma is burned into the body, the cells and the memory, so there is often difficulty in bodily and emotional regulation, and there's also a sense of being stuck. Repetitive thoughts, flashbacks, tension, sleep difficulties, nausea, anxiety attacks, low self-esteem and depression, physical pain, and feelings of shame and guilt. The damage can manifest itself in many areas of life when the sense of security and self-balance is upset – at work or at home, or in relationships."
And how can one grow from post trauma?
"Researchers Lev, Wieser and Amir define post-traumatic growth as the ability to rebuild significance in life, trust and hope, connections, and self-identity. The ability to integrate disruption and destruction with a connection to a life of doing and creating. To allow movement while remaining in pain and subversion, growing and finding healthy and positive powers."
During this period, the aim is to identify anchors and reinforce the feeling of belonging and interpersonal support, because even after the traumatic events are over, they return to our consciousness and continue to affect our ability to be present in our own lives. Our emotional health is dependent on our circles of support. That's exactly what emotional trauma gnaws away at."
How can we help the people around us?
"The main principle is restoring self-control and orientation. Professional help is important, but a cloak of support is no less critical. A cloak rooted in partnership, love and close personal connection. At the first stage, it's important to normalize and legitimize feelings, convince that they're normal reactions, while using psycho-educational techniques to explain what happens to us in stressful situations, with the emphasis on efficient ways to cope.
On the one hand, we must recognize the enormity of the atrocities, but we must also pull ourselves together and focus, beginning with baby steps to organize oneself within the chaos, in reality as well as in body and soul.
At the second stage, one can try and cope using simple and available resources, like meeting up with friends, working in the garden, walking in nature, art, writing, creativity, music, doing and volunteering."
According to Yael, one also needs to address the negative feelings that arise. "Over the years, I 've treated many post-trauma patients, and one of the things that impacts emotional suffering and increases the symptoms is the interpretation and meaning we give to the traumatic experience. Negative emotions like anger, guilt and shame, damage our self-confidence and increase anxiety, depression and post trauma. In order to regulate the negative emotions, we need to reframe and try and replace them with feelings of coping. In addition, to preserve our immune system, we need to ensure we aren't exposed to too much news, images and clips that just weaken and damage us."
To cope with the feeling many of us have that the war is just becoming one long chunk of time, Yael recommends constructing an events continuum. "We need to create a beginning, a middle and an end. Concrete and focused questions can help. The essence of grounding is our presence and our ability to just be. Our tendency is to repeatedly fall back to the nightmarish hours. Our aim is to restore the continuum of time and our orientation and to connect to our strengths."
What else can we do?
"One of the most beneficial cures during a crisis is to pay attention to other people and give. We're all together in this – all of us are supporting and being supported, serving as a crutch for others yet also needing others to lean on. It's critical to give a sense of security and hope to anyone who is undergoing crisis, while adopting an authoritative approach and clearly saying that we'll get over this together."
It appears that resilience is another crucial medicine in these situations. Yael claims resilience is not something we are born with, but a skill we develop and improve. "There are four cycles of resilience – personal, communal, organizational and national. The definition of resilience is the multi-dimensional ability to use existing strengths, to cope with change and to continue to function, recover and advance actions. This multi-dimensional ability can belong to the individual, the family, the business, an army unit, a system or the entire country."
In her words, "Resilience, in contrast to durability, is not measured by muscle mass, but by one's ability to relax. Everything breaks in the end, depending on how much pressure is applied. But resilience is not durability. It's flexibility. Resilience is the ability to rebound from the fall and get back up on your feet. More than that, there are studies that show there are people and organizations who actually bounced back after a big crisis, succeeded in reinventing themselves from within their post-trauma and came out a lot stronger. The role of leaders is to build resistance and create solid ground despite the earthquake we've been through."
So, what's a leader's role during these times? If it's a parent, a school principal, or the head of a local authority?
"One of the immediate and important roles is to restore the sense of continuity and normal functioning, because trauma interrupts the sense of continuity. The ability to be organized and to organize, to move people to action despite and alongside the difficulty. To lead operative programs, to connect and enlist, to acclimatize and cope with all the challenges along the way.
There are a few other anchors in this process. The first is solidarity and mutual responsibility. Solidarity creates a glue between individuals and groups, and it represents a powerful social engine, one that builds trust and cohesion and enhances resilience.
The second issue is instilling trust. We found ourselves in a state of tremendous internal strife and division, and it was there we experienced another disaster, accompanied by trauma and damage to our belief system, about ourselves and the world. The rehabilitation and coping needs to begin from our closest circles outwards, with the aim of restoring the sense of security and trust.
Trust is not something passive. We choose to trust. But for that we need to work hard and be present on the ground as much as we can – to listen, to be coordinated, and to be focused on action, focused on rehabilitating the communities, security, and strive towards growth and prosperity.
In addition to action, words also have the power to shape reality. They can build trust and they can also destroy and be divisive. It is very important to try and regain the things we have lost and to care for each other. However, to ensure this won’t be just trauma but also a pivotal historical event, we need to strengthen ourselves from within and transform the crisis into the creation of a new contract between the various groups and between the citizens and the government institutions and leadership."
And above all, she says, is the significance, the meaning. "This is the infrastructure essential in all of our lives. Irvin Yalom called it 'Our basic human motivation.' Significance is the way in which we think, how we view ourselves, and interpret what happens to us. It's also the way in which we organize and understand our story. In trauma situations, the narrative collapses and the reality collapses with it, and when the story comes loose and under scrutiny, we attempt to rebound and tell it anew. What defines us is not the events that happen to us, but how we react to them. We need to understand that it takes time to find meaning. It's a voyage in itself. Anyone who rushes to extract meaning from what's easily accessible, like pointing the finger or soul-searching, is missing the moment.
When things break up, we look to hold on to the familiar, the life raft. We search for answers in order to cope with the anxiety, look for steady ground, and when we can't find it, we find meaning in the journey itself, in our ability to build a joint future, strengthen relationships and find new connections."
Love Enables Survival
My conversation with Yael is not easy. It's hard not to be amazed by her mental strength, her power, and by the shards of optimism she sprinkles into our chat. During the hard times in her life, she says she remembers a quote from the diaries of Etty Hillesum, a Dutch Jewish woman killed in the Holocaust. "Her diary was published years after her death, and it describes a personal and spiritual journey that includes conversations with God, deep understanding about life, a love of humanity and coping with the atrocities she saw and experienced firsthand. She writes, 'The heavens within me are broad and large, like the heavens above me. I believe in God and I believe in humans and I dare to say those two things together unashamedly.'
In my opinion, that sentence integrates our realistic perspective with our ability, even in the most difficult situations, to still try and believe and hope. To see the flicker of light even in the blackest darkness.
Love allows us to survive in a world of war, alongside the struggle for existence, for we also have a war for life itself, for the small things that make up life – a child's laugh, coffee with friends, giving to others, and also for the more complex challenges involved in rehabilitation that could take years in areas like security, economy and education. Rehabilitation after which we will all be much much better."
Translation by: Danny Verbov