Bat Bracha and George. Born on April 20, 1964 in Tel Aviv, Ezra and Ilan’s naughty little sister, Varda spent her childhood in the Sheinkin neighborhood of Tel Aviv and studied at the Balfour Elementary School, where she attended high school in high school “My first poems about Dad” describe her feelings and hurt: “You never angry / You never shouted / You always loved, You loved to live / But fate was cruel to you / And took you away from me and from the life / that you so loved / and so it happened. “Varda joined the IDF in 1980 and was placed in the Ordnance Corps. At the end of her regular service in the “Steel Formation” division, she decided to continue to permanent service. For the next twenty-three years she served as a human resources supervisor. Her son Ziv, who brought the world alone, grew with infinite love and devotion. On the eve of the Day of Atonement, on October 12, 2005, after four months of fighting a serious illness, senior sergeant Varda Haddad died at the age of forty-one and was brought to rest in the military cemetery in Holon. After her death, her brother, Ilan, and his wife, Danit, adopted her son, Ziv, who wrote: “Varda will always be remembered for being a multi-colored, life-loving girl with a rolling and captivating laugh. Her love for others, her family, and her friends had always been paramount to her and for them she would have done anything. Varda was sensitive and sensitive to the feelings of her loved ones, and even in her worst moments she always thought of how to spare others. She showed no less concern for her soldiers, and this was the testimony of the great love they gave her. Varda was a single mother whose son Ziv was her greatest love on earth. Even during her illness, all her attention and every shred of thought were devoted to him. The disease overwhelmed Varda in her prime, at the peak of happiness and flowering, when Ziv was only two years old, and her greatest dream of raising him happily was cut off in Abu. Varda left a big hole in the hearts of her lovers and laughter in the world lost a little of its meaning. Varda, your character will remain forever in our hearts. “Lt. Col. Kobi told Varda:” Two weeks ago we were awarded the rank of Harsab. Some of the friends here have been with you for many years and have come a long way from the days of your youth in Division 162 to your last position as commander of the reserve duty units. In your posts you have supported and dealt with in a devoted and loving way. One of your soldiers once said to me: ‘She’s not just a commander, she’s a mother.’ And indeed, like a good mother, you worried about those around you, so I chose you as the commander of Shiran, after she returned to us from the terrible attack in which we also lost the soldier Angelina. But your total love was for your son Ziv. We were regularly updated about his progress, his state of health, his latest brilliance, and always carried a set of up-to-date pictures in order to show us how well he had grown and developed. Despite your stubborn and courageous struggle, the illness overwhelmed you, and unfortunately, our last visit to your sick bed was a farewell visit. … We, your friends, your commanders, and your leaders salute you here today. You will miss us very much. Rest in peace. “Her friends wrote:” Varda, when you are, you are a hot red flower with a radiant crown of curls that glows in the distance, as you used to say in your special hand gesture. I’ve come! ‘ And like the rose of the rose, you were also sarcastic, stubborn, strong, real, proud and cynical in all your limbs, and so in a typical way you told the doctor when you heard about the terrible disease: ‘Well, probably I will not be fat anymore.’Instead of all of us falling apart you were strong, and for the first time you thought about Mama and what she would do. Red is also the color of the heart, and your heart is pink, it was huge, it had a passionate love, sweeping and sweeping to one little boy, to Ziv, whose picture looks out to you and us everywhere: from the box she prepared for his birth, from the office walls, keychain, A stimulating container. But also a strong love for your mother, her admiration, your beloved brothers Ilan and Ezra, and your broad, warm and supportive family. We, your friends and soldiers, enjoyed and were blessed by the zeal and the wall of this love. When we received the bitter news three months ago, we knew it was a long, hard and exhausting war, but we were sure that the victory was over. All the way through the long hours we spent on the ninth floor of the hospital we came to comfort and support and we were encouraged and strengthened. You knew how to accept each one of us with a hug and a kiss, warm smiles, warm-hearted stories about Ziv and remarks so cynical that we forgot what we were doing in this department that looked like a colorful butterfly. Varda, even when you finally succumbed, you did so in a special way, with dignity and splendor to the sound of blowing the shofar and the prayers of the entire Jewish people on the Ten Days of Repentance and the Holy Day of Atonement. We, your friends and loved ones, overwhelmed by your queen, miss you and already feel your absence. We promise that we will never forget you, that you will always have a place in our hearts and that when your beloved son grows up we will tell him so that he too will not forget what colorful mother loves life and man, and above all loves him more and more and more, you were him. ” Laughing. Mostly laughs … She keeps laughing. A life-great woman with a fascinating presence that can not be ignored. A little tough, but a chocolate heart: Sweet, sweet and instant melting. I remember her. Her effective advice, her endless help, the confidence she had in all of us. Even when we received the news about the disease, there was no question – it was clear that we were winning, because when Roda decided to do something – that was what was finally done. Mostly I remember the happiness … the infinite happiness … that came along with Ziv – her son – the love of her great life. When I look back at the stations I passed through my life, it seems that there is no one who survives in me: joy, mourning, love, disappointments, wedding, and the birth of my eldest daughter – she just experienced everything with me together, and now … I remember and never forget. Varda’s brother: “My beloved sister Varda. This is the first time I have been writing to you since you left us. I tried several times but it was hard and did not come out on paper. We talked and talked a lot about you at the grave and in dreams, I tell you what’s going on, and mainly cry about you not being able to embrace you anymore. My beautiful rose, your kindness was amazing, your smile glowed far away, and wherever you came you were the center and the heart. You have never held a grudge against anyone and everyone has an open heart. It’s been almost a year and a half, I still can not figure out how you’ve suddenly disappeared from my life and it’s hard for me to ever see you again. People say that with time the pain decreases, but how wrong they are. Every day it is harder for me to realize that I will not hug you and see your charming smile. Every woman or girl who reminds you of you makes my heart jump. While driving, I find myself driving after cars where I’ve seen someone like you to see maybe it’s you, and all that happened was just a dream. I never thought that there would ever be a situation I missed, it makes no sense, ‘my little sister.’ Fate and you are not and I cry with longing and love. I remember the days we went through when I came to visit you on Kibbutz Magal or when I came to the ‘Dante’Just visit and sometimes take you home when you wanted to be pampered and not take the bus. Many times we went to parties together with your guys from the base and also to weddings when we were out, going out to vacationers and restaurants together and celebrating birthdays together. How I would like to go back in time and be with you more and more. My beloved sister, there is no day that passes and you do not come up in my thoughts, suddenly there are a lot of songs that I find difficult to listen to … From my mother, I was never good at writing letters or poems. Exactly the opposite of you, for the rest of your life, writing in various notebooks the secrets of your heart and your wishes. I believe that we will meet again when the time comes and we will complete what we have not achieved in this life. So take care of all of us, my beloved sister, and you’ll know that I miss you every day. Your beloved brother Varda, my beloved sister Varda, almost a year and a half without you … Varda, my love for my heart, there is not a day that passes and I do not think about you. Now I have to move on knowing that nothing will be the same. I had a sister I loved so much and now I no longer have. A nurse who always told me that I had a great influence on her life, so know, my beloved sister, that no one has ever affected my life as you did after your death. You brought a gorgeous child into the world. He came to us at the age of two and a half and here next month he will be four years old. An amazing child, beautiful, smiling, happy and wise as our father whom you loved so much. We know that he was the love of your life and understand all your aspirations to give him the whole world. We try to give him everything we can to have a happy and happy life as you would like for him. In my heart always, Ilan. “
