The story of Yamit Peretz, 23, from Kiryat Haim, who works for the Sea Flyers (Meofefey HaYam) nonprofit in fundraising and social media
“The last time I spoke to my father was during a conversation in which we reconciled. Our relationship had its ups and downs, and during that conversation, on Friday afternoon, October 6, 2023, he promised that once he got home, we would continue talking. At the time, he was at the Unity Festival, which we had planned to attend together: my father, my sister Ruth and I. At the last minute, as we were about to leave, my father and I had an argument and he decided to go without me. I arrived later with friends, and after a night of dancing between Thursday and Friday, I decided I’d had enough and went home. My father and Ruth later moved on to the Nova festival after organizers invited them to attend for free. The next day, hell began.
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Yamit Peretz, her late father, Erick and sister Ruth
(Photography: Gil Nehushtan, Amit Azriel)
I grew up in Kiryat Haim, close to the sea. My father, Erick Peretz, may he rest in peace, had been married before, and I have a sister from his first marriage. My mother, Elinor, who is 18 years younger than him, has muscular dystrophy. She gave birth to me when she was 20, and when I was 3, my younger sister was born. When she was born, they named her Ruth, but she suffered a brain hemorrhage and doctors said she would not survive. When she survived, my mother added the name Hodaya to hers.
I spent most of my childhood surrounded by my sister’s treatments and hospitalizations. She dealt with muscular dystrophy, brain damage, developmental problems and more. I was the middle child between my two sisters and helped my father.
I didn’t have an easy time at school. I was overweight, and kids made fun of me because I had a sick mother and a sister with disabilities. I was ostracized and had no friends. To help me cope, when I was 8 or 9, my father introduced me to the world of surfing, which was an inseparable part of his life. He was a kitesurfer. It was his great love, alongside the parties where he celebrated on weekends. I would go watch him surf, doing tricks and jumps, and I loved photographing him with that surfer vibe: hair blowing in the wind, blue eyes, a tan and a broad smile. My father was very well known among surfers. His WhatsApp status read, “Flying in the air — landing soon,” and he loved sharing his knowledge and tips with anyone who wanted them.
The late Erick Peretz
(Photo: Zion Zana)
And he had another love: the party scene. He had a Facebook page, where he encouraged people with disabilities not to stop themselves from enjoying parties. He believed every party should be accessible to make it easier for people with disabilities to integrate into society, so that their limitations would not be a factor. Organizers of outdoor and trance parties knew him and invited him to attend without buying tickets. Later, we joined him as well. Ruth especially loved the music and parties and was happiest at them.
My parents divorced when I was 14, and I stayed at home with my father. Shortly after I received my initial military draft notice, my father and I began disagreeing over my enlistment. He wanted me to stay with him and Ruth, while I, who also had the option of receiving an exemption because of my circumstances, wanted to become a combat soldier and enlist in the Border Police.
I enlisted in November 2021, which led to a break in our relationship. I served as a lone soldier and missed my little sister terribly. A few months before October 7, my father called me and said, “Your sister is asking for you,” and I came over. A little later, I moved back in with them, but there were still tensions between my father and me.
On October 7, my father managed to tell my older sister that there were lots of rockets and that he would try to get home as quickly as possible. At around 7 a.m., he stopped answering his phone. I felt like my body was exploding. I was consumed by the thought that I hadn’t stayed with them and that my father needed me. At first, he and Ruth were listed as missing, and it shook me to my core. I knew my sister would not survive captivity. On October 18, there was a knock at the door. My father’s body had been found. My sister was still listed as missing and abducted. I lost it.
I knew my father could not have left her behind. On October 19, my father’s 59th birthday, we buried him. A few weeks later, there was another knock at the door. We were asked for permission to open his grave because it turned out that my younger sister and another woman had been buried with him. It was horrifying. We went through everything all over again. I felt that I had been right all along: My father had not left Ruth behind.
Yamit Peretz, with her late father, Erick and sister Ruth
(Photo: Amit Azriel)
For the past three years, I have been focused on rebuilding my life. I live in our home, which we received from the Housing Ministry when I was a little girl. Following the disaster, I was given the option of continuing to live there for six years, and I’m trying to extend that period because all my memories of my father and Ruth are there. I receive treatment as a bereaved family member and as someone dealing with mental health difficulties. I have connected with people who are in similar situations and with the Nova community, and little by little I am reintegrating into life and focusing on doing things.
One of the things that helps me is returning to the sea. The Surf Cycle club in Kiryat Yam, which belongs to the Sea Flyers nonprofit, was my father’s second home, and when I was a teenager I taught children there. After October 7, it was difficult for me to return to the sea because it was my world and my father’s world.
After my father and sister’s headstones were unveiled, the surfing club held a memorial ceremony. Ido Aviv, may he rest in peace, who was a senior surfing instructor at the club, told me I should never forget that I had another home and family there and that I had to continue doing what I loved for those who are no longer here. That motivated me, and I returned to surfing. Unfortunately, a few months later, he was killed in Gaza.
The late Ido Aviv
(Photo: Private album)
I decided that in addition to surfing for fun, I would return to the club as an instructor. We work with children with disabilities, at-risk youth, post-trauma survivors and a variety of other groups to make water sports accessible to everyone.
Recently, the club’s director, Gil Horowitz, who was a close friend of my father’s, offered to expand my role into something more meaningful. Since then, I have also been working in social media and fundraising for the Sea Flyers. It is an empowering role that fills me with happiness because, in doing so, I am continuing my father’s path: not letting limitations affect anyone’s inclusion in the world of water sports, because there is nothing more healing than the sea.
Alongside my work at the club, I am studying music production — music was my sister’s great love — and plan to study aeronautics and space engineering at the Technion. My dream is to establish an accessible kitesurfing company for people with disabilities.”
Bottom line: “My goal is to commemorate my father and sister through the great loves of their lives and help them leave a mark even though they are no longer here.”