Omer Neutra's absence hangs on a dog tag around his father's neck and proclaims in Hebrew that his heart is being held captive in Gaza. It's visible in his face emblazoned on his father's T-shirt and in the photos taped to empty chairs at holiday tables.
His absence drives his mother's daily internal conversations with her missing son and her plans for a new apartment waiting for him to rebuild his life. It flickers in the candles that his parents lit and watched burn to chocolate icing on his 22nd birthday.
For three months, it fueled Ronen and Orna Neutra's all-consuming mission to free their son, who grew up on Long Island, New York, and put off college to spend a year in Israel. 7, on his apparent capture by Hamas.
Now, as the captivity of the more than 130 remaining hostages reaches the three-month mark, the couple say their son is running out of time as negotiations fail and the dangers to the hostages grow greater with each passing week.
“It's very scary. And it’s frustrating,” said his mother, Orna Neutra.
The prospects for a negotiated deal that could return the hostages in exchange for Palestinian prisoners continue to be caught between Hamas' demands for a full ceasefire and Israel's goal of driving the group out of Gaza, experts said.
Egypt has proposed a multi-stage peace proposal that called for an exchange and a final end to the war. But events such as the recent assassination of a top Hamas leader in Beirut have complicated the talks. The Neutras are now among those pushing for a deal for each hostage at a time as quickly as possible, rather than a limited exchange.
“We cannot wait until Hamas is completely dismantled and released. We can hardly wait for the war to end,” said Ronen Neutra.
Meanwhile, the couple remains in painful limbo. Because they were told by the Israeli government that Omer had been taken hostage, they never found out about it. They don't know where he is or whether he's still alive.
They believe he is likely being held in the warren of tunnels beneath Gaza, where some released hostages have reported severe shortages of food and medical care, physical and psychological abuse and ongoing dangers from Israeli bombings.
For now, all they can do is continue the tireless work of the past three months, shuttling between Washington and Tel Aviv to lobby lawmakers, attend vigils and marches, and publicize the plight of their son and other hostages.
“He is our son. We can't think about not getting him back. “That’s not an option,” Ronen said.
Shock and a life turned upside down
On October 7, Orna and Ronen were about to go to bed at home near Plainview, New York, when they decided to read the news.
They knew that Omer, who served in an Israeli army tank unit, was stationed near the kibbutz farming communities on the Gaza border.
There have been a few clashes in recent weeks. In recent conversations he had told his mother by telephone that the situation had apparently calmed down. Now, however, reporters are pointing to a major escalation. Ronen texted his son.
“Hey Omer, what's wrong?”
Her son's presence in the Israeli army had its origins in the family's connection to Israel.
Orna was born in the United States and Ronen in Israel, but both had dual citizenship and had family in both countries. Omer was born in Manhattan a month after the September 11 terrorist attacks.
He grew up on Long Island, played basketball, soccer and volleyball and attended the Schechter School of Long Island, a Jewish day school. He was an outgoing, sometimes goofy, charismatic person, his parents said, often a sports captain and active in the United Synagogue Youth. He loved hip-hop, fantasy football and the New York Knicks.
Family photos show a dapper Omer grinning with his parents and younger brother Daniel at a Knicks game, showcasing a jersey from the State University of New York at Binghamton, where he was accepted to college.
But at 18, he deferred admission to Binghamton for a year abroad in Israel to participate in a service and education program that serves as a prelude to mandatory military service for Israeli residents.
Omer told his parents it was unfair that his friends had to serve in the Israeli army, and he didn't do it. There were dangers and it was not an easy decision. But he decided to join a program for people from other countries.
Ronen said they were proud of his dedication to duty but said goodbye “with a heavy heart.” He later joined a tank unit.
But on October 7, as the hours passed and Ronen's WhatsApp showed that the normally responsive son was not seeing any messages, they began to fear that something terrible had happened. They were looking for information.
“We didn’t sleep all night. We just called everyone we knew,” Ronen said.
Two days later, after the full horror of the attack emerged, the couple saw two men in dark suits from the Israeli embassy come to the door of their Plainview-area home.
“It was terrifying,” Ronen said.
Eventually they learned that Omer's unit had been attacked and he and others had been taken to Gaza, he told a group in Israel recently.
The couple took action. They called lawmakers and government officials. They joined with other hostage families who formed the Hostages and Missing Families Forum, providing information, support and advocacy.
They soon attended a rally in Times Square and joined President Joe Biden on Zoom, where they shared stories about their son. They gave a series of media interviews and shared harrowing details, including lighting a birthday cake for a son who wasn't there to blow out the candles.
Fast-paced events send their hopes and fears on a rollercoaster ride. When Israel launched its ground invasion at the end of October, they once again had to fear for his safety.
“Our lives have been completely turned upside down,” Orna said.
Hope and a new mission
The couple maintained regular contact with U.S. and Israeli officials, but for more than a month there was no information about their son's whereabouts or health.
They could only guess whether the punishing Israeli airstrikes and troop movements into Gaza in the first weeks of November landed near him.
“The uncertainty and lack of any information is really difficult,” Ronen said.
Then, a week after Orna joined thousands who gathered for an Israeli solidarity rally on the National Mall in Washington on November 14, they received encouraging news.
Fierce negotiations between the US, Egypt and Qatar had led to a plan to exchange some hostages for Palestinian prisoners. The pause would also allow for more humanitarian assistance to civilians suffering from hunger and displacement.
They dampened their hopes. According to experts, the soldiers are likely to be held for the longest time.
“We knew it was mostly children and women, and we respect that,” Ronen said. “But of course we wanted to see Omer among them.”
Around Thanksgiving, the couple traveled to Israel, where emotional scenes unfolded as prisoners returned to their families in Red Cross vans. In that exchange, two Americans, including four-year-old Abigail Edan, were released.
In total, more than 100 hostages were exchanged for 240 Palestinian prisoners, mostly women and children on both sides, before the deal collapsed and fighting resumed, a further blow to the hostages' families.
Returnees speaking out about their conditions, some citing lack of medical care or being held at gunpoint and the constant fear of death, only added to the Neutras' worries.
Back home on Long Island, the community and friends rallied around her, hosting events, providing food and helping spread Omer's story on social media and in the news. One of Omer's friends maintained his fantasy football team, Orna said. And her story touched the public, including a woman who commented on a Times of Israel article after hearing Orna speak about her son.
“I had to lean on the kitchen counter to listen to you and the pain you are experiencing,” she wrote. “My own son turns 22 in a few weeks.”
Omer also appeared among the #KidnappedFromIsrael flyers created by Israeli artists and posted on walls in New York and cities around the world to raise awareness of her plight. The couple were dismayed when some of them were demolished as protests grew against Israel's response from people supporting Palestinian rights.
Ronen said he sympathized with the Palestinian people in Gaza – they too had been taken hostage by Hamas. But they have worked hard to stay away from politics. It was about her son and, among other things, they focused on raising awareness that Hamas would not allow the Red Cross to come after the hostages.
They really wanted to know. Neutra's brother Daniel gave Omer a message in an interview: “Just stay strong and know that we are doing everything we can.”
His mother went her own way.
“I talk to him in my head every day,” Orna said. “We’re trying to keep hope.”
The demands for a hostage deal are becoming more and more urgent
On a December day in Washington, the couple attended a somber Hanukkah event at the Israeli embassy. According to one report, several protesters outside were waving Palestinian flags. Inside, photos of Omer and other hostages were displayed on a wall.
“We are praying for a Hanukkah miracle that brings Omer back to us along with the remaining hostages,” Orna said. “We pray that the light we spread will be stronger and more powerful than the evil and darkness that currently overshadows us.”
A day later, they were among the 13 hostage families at the White House to meet with Biden, who they said underscored the U.S. commitment to bringing the hostages home.
There are said to be around six Americans among the hostages, including Omer. An American woman remains missing. Four American hostages have been released by Hamas, including two during a week-long ceasefire last month.
He is also one of the few people with military ties to Israel, which could complicate their release.
On December 15, the dangers to hostages held in a war zone became clear when three Israeli soldiers who had escaped from their captors were accidentally killed by Israeli troops, raising further tensions with the hostages' families.
At Christmas, the couple took their pleas back to Israel to lobby lawmakers there while the U.S. Congress was in recess. Hostage families have put sustained pressure on Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's government to do everything possible to bring them home, holding regular demonstrations, speeches and rallies in Israel.
“Their situation is becoming more dangerous and life-threatening with every day that passes,” said Jonathan Dekel-Chen, whose 35-year-old Israeli-American son Sagui was abducted from Kibbutz Nir Oz.
Israel had recently proposed a week-long ceasefire to return more women and children, but Hamas had rejected it, instead demanding that Israel completely halt its offensive before further negotiations, news reports said.
Most hostage families say any deal that brings the hostages home is worth the cost, although a few disagree, said Gershon Baskin, Middle East director of the peace-building group International Communities Organization, who helped negotiate the exchange of one in 2011 Israeli soldiers fought against more than 1,000 Palestinian prisoners.
“There is no victory for Israel in this war unless the hostages come home,” Baskin said.
In more private moments, outside of their busy schedule of public appearances, Ronen and Orna spoke with some of Omer's Israeli friends. They learned that one evening before the attack, he was watching the sunset with a friend and thinking about life after his service.
Since their son was now looking for a new apartment, his parents do this in his place – hoping to find a nice new place and fill it with his belongings where he can land and rebuild his life while he healed from the scars he could carry it home.
“It gives us another task on our to-do list: to stay positive and productive and just create the future we want to have,” Ronen said. “We act and work in the firm belief that he is alive.”