I visited Sagi’s mother with the rest of our commune friends. It was a bittersweet moment—seeing how life has evolved for everyone. Most of the group now has families, children, or are conquering the world with their ambitions. It reminded me of how deeply I yearn to become a father and find my partner—a desire that has only grown stronger since October 7th and during my time in the reserves.

This visit brought me back to a memory of Sagi. I remember hearing about this apartment when it was just a plan, wrapped in blueprints and yet to undergo renovations. Sagi’s incredible, kind-hearted mother transformed it into a home filled with light, peace, and simplicity. What struck me the most was its minimalism. There’s no excess clutter—just a harmony of essentials that creates a serene and welcoming space.

We walked into your room, Sagi. And I paused, overwhelmed with emotion. You, our hero, are leading us still, guiding us even in your physical absence. I felt your presence so vividly, your essence woven into every moment.

You are missed deeply at every commune gathering. And yet, in your absence, you’re profoundly present. The legacy you’ve left us—to do good, to be good—fills every room and every decision we make.

For me, it’s become a mission to understand and embody what that truly means. To show up for our friends who are carrying invisible wounds, ensuring they don’t break entirely. Every day, I strive to live up to the profound sense of purpose you’ve instilled in us.

On the way home, I saw a quote from a bereaved sister: "He died for you. What have you done for him?" It hit me hard. How important it is to remember, every single day, to do more good, to be better, to carry forward the legacy of those we’ve lost.

It’s not an easy task. But it’s one worth committing to. For Sagi, for his memory, and for the world we’re building.

What about you? What are you doing today to honor the legacy of someone you’ve loved and lost?

Let’s strive together, every day, to be a little better—for ourselves, for each other, and for those who paved the way for us.