"My daughter was buried yesterday. I would have loved to meet you and draw strength"

Almost 20 years separate the moment Rivana Tandler's world collapsed and the moment the exact same disaster arrived at the doorstep of Ilit Yanai. Both lost a daughter in battles against Hezbollah in Lebanon: Keren Tandler, the first female flight mechanic on Yasur helicopters in the IDF, was killed in the Second Lebanon War; Rotem Yanai, a welfare NCO in the Givati Brigade, was killed about three months ago by an explosive drone strike.

Rivana has lived for two decades alongside the longing. She learned how to get up in the morning, return to work, commemorate, and continue living alongside the void. Ilit is only at the beginning of this journey of coping. One post that Rivana published at the end of May brought them together: a mother who knows well the long road after the loss of a daughter, and a mother who just set out on it - and asked to know one thing from her: is it possible to continue living?

"My daughter Keren was killed in Lebanon," wrote Rivana in a post she published on May 29, 2026. "She fell when a missile from Hezbollah terrorists hit her helicopter and her crew members in Lebanon, moments after landing paratrooper forces deep in Lebanese territory." She added that "Keren's body remains were not found for several days, from the moment we were notified that she was killed in Lebanon and missing, until 669 and Shaldag fighters found her and returned with her body to Israel on a long trek to the Israeli border accompanied by paratrooper fighters. Keren, the first female flight mechanic on Yasur helicopters in the IDF, was also the first female soldier killed in Lebanon. Almost 20 years have passed. Keren was my only daughter out of two children I brought into the world. Next week I will be 77 and I miss Keren very much."

Ilit responded to the publication, writing: "My daughter was buried yesterday. I would have loved to meet you when the shiva ends and draw strength. I feel like I will never be able to recover." Rivana replied: "I wrote yesterday in response to your picture from the funeral on one of the pages, that it took me straight to the day I said goodbye to Keren myself. Unfortunately, we are now partners in fate to the same terrible pain of losing a daughter. You lost an amazing daughter who was born in the year Keren fell and it is so painful to think about it. Slowly it will happen, we will keep in touch. You are not alone."

"I swore I would choose life, but it is terribly hard."

At the initiative of ynet, the two mothers met in a park in memory of Keren in Rehovot, near her favorite running track, opposite the cemetery where she was laid to rest. Among the graffiti paintings of the Yasur helicopter, the two sat for a conversation about coping with the loss of what is dearest to them. The mother who has lived alongside the pain for 20 years, and the mother who asked for tools to cope with the fresh bereavement.

"From the first second it was important for me to know that one day I would be able to continue living," explained Ilit about what is behind the appeal to Rivana. "It accompanies me to this day. On Rotem's grave, I swore that I would choose life - but even when you choose it, it is terribly hard. I want parents who already have experience to tell me that it is possible," she added with pain. Rivana defined herself as a "veteran of the profession," and added with sorrow: "You live with it all your life."

The two remember well the moment of receiving the news. "From the moment they knocked on my door until I went to identify her, I lost six hours of my life. The first thing I wanted was to see her, I couldn't continue otherwise," said Ilit. Rivana shared that they arrived at 1:45 at night. "They knocked on the door, and Dan (the father) and Nadav (the brother) said that I said - 'Soldiers have arrived.' I still don't remember to this day that I said that," she shared.

Ilit said that she saw the soldiers from the window, but did not understand what happened - and thought they were Rotem's friends. "When I opened the door I saw my ex-husband and our two children - and I understood," she shared. "I went upstairs and started screaming. I remember thinking that maybe she was only wounded, I screamed 'Tell me she was only wounded!', and by the reaction I understood." Rivana also had similar feelings at the moment of receiving the news. "At first they said they were missing. It gave me hope that she was wounded, maybe Hezbollah kidnapped her," she said. "But I was on the way to understanding, until I found out that she was the one who took the missile."

The two also remember well the last conversation with the daughters - the one held more than 20 years ago, and the one that was only about 3 months ago. Ilit said that the conversation took place only two hours before her daughter was killed. "She was supposed to come home, she had already packed her bag. And to this day I am angry at myself that I didn't give her all my attention," she said with pain. "But the conversation ended in laughter. She cursed because they closed the canteen." Rivana recalled that at midnight her daughter returned home from another flight. "When I asked how it was, she said it was quiet. Only after that did we find out that there was a missile that missed them," she said.

Rotem also projected confidence to Ilit throughout her service, near the Lebanese border. "In retrospect, we found out that her friend was wounded a month earlier by an explosive drone. They were constantly under the threat of drones, hours in shelters. She didn't tell me, didn't tell me anything. She shared that everything was fine," said Ilit. Unlike the confidence Keren projected to Rivana, Nadav, Keren's brother, shares about their last conversation on 12.8.2006. "Before she left for the base, she asked me to bring her a knife. She said that if she fell into captivity she would cut her veins, so she wouldn't be at the mercy of Hezbollah," he said.

Ilit met Nadav for the first time already at Rotem's shiva. "When they see bereaved parents it has an effect," he shared. "It was important for me to talk to him, to understand how to cope with the children," said Ilit.

Both girls were driven to reach the role they filled. "This role didn't come easily to her, she fought for it," said Rivana about Keren, the first woman to serve as a flight mechanic. "In 1999 she entered the technical school in Haifa, where her love story for the Yasurs began. It didn't matter to her that there were still no women in the role, from the first moment she knew that this was what she would do," recalled Rivana. After 8 years of service, Keren was discharged in 2005, but continued to report for reserve duty on permanent conditions. "She didn't give up on the army, even during her law degree. During the day she studied for exams, at night she flew. In the car she had two things - a bag for the helicopter, in which she knew every screw, and a bag for swimming," she shared - and told about her insistence on carrying out operational activity beyond the enemy line.

Ilit said that Rotem wanted to be a welfare NCO, and she finished the training course with honors. "They wanted her to go to officer training and she preferred to stay in the field. A popular girl, always in the center, the glue. She would bring children who were boycotted, who didn't fit in, closer to her group. In the scouts, she was an instructor for autistic children. After she was killed, children shared with me how she supported them, the light she gave them. I always said she was destined for greatness, everything she did - was as it should be," she said.

The two hold on to the high motivation the girls had for fulfilling their roles. "I have peace from the knowledge that she did what she wanted," added Ilit. Rivana shared: "At least she fell in the role she loved most."

Since the loss, Ilit and Rivana describe that everything has changed. "We are not the same person," said Rivana. Ilit added: "And I won't return to being one. It's beyond nature, it doesn't make sense." Ilit said that alongside coping with the loss of Rotem, she also supports her son Dor, Rotem's older brother, who was wounded on October 7 and is dealing with battle shock. "I feel like they took two children from me - one mentally, one physically," she shared with pain.

Ilit said that "at first I asked myself, what would I prefer, if she hadn't been born in the first place and I wouldn't have had to suffer the nightmare of losing her, or that I enjoyed her for 20 years, and today I am suffering. I came to the conclusion that I am glad I had her." Rivana shared that "Rotem was born in the year Keren was killed. This year she was supposed to be 47. Sometimes I think she could have been the mother of a fallen soldier from the war now who is buried next to her."

Regarding the future, shared Ilit, a lawyer by profession, that she doesn't think she will return to work. Once she gathers strength, her goal is clear - to promote legislative amendments for fallen soldiers and bereaved families. "Every soldier should be asked at the time of enlistment if they want their sperm to be harvested or an egg to be extracted if they fall," she said. The two agreed that they would have been happy for continuity from the daughter who is no longer here. "A bereaved family today receives 8 days of mourning, can someone expect me to return to work when I don't even remember my name? There needs to be mourning recovery for a child," she added about another struggle she aspires to lead, in Rotem's name. "After the child is gone, the way to be a parent is through commemoration."

The similarity between the two is expressed in their choice to maintain vitality. "There are those who are under-active and there are those who are over-active. I am constantly doing, because I feel that if I don't do I will drown," said Ilit. "I don't sleep all night, I am tired. If I don't do this I don't know how I will survive," she added. Rivana said that "after work I continued with volunteering in teaching. I didn't go to a psychologist, opposite my house there is a pool, twice a week I go for water exercise. The moment I am in the water I calm down, for 16 years already."

An inseparable part of the activity is the commemoration of the girls. "I call it different parenting. After the child is gone, your way to be a parent is through commemoration," shared Ilit, who always walks with the flag on which Rotem's picture is displayed. "This is the way to make her present, so that something remains of her," she added. Rivana said that "in order to remember her you have to fight all your life. This is a way to continue her life. As if she is with us all the time."

Commemoration is also Ilit's way to scream her pain. "Our lives have turned upside down. Once I would see memorial stickers on the wall, today I understand that every sticker is a family that has crashed, that will not return to being what it was." The commemoration of the girls who are no longer here also reminds them of the women they could have been in the future. "Rotem's friends are with me every weekend, their presence is very important to me. They are part of our family," said Ilit and added about a conversation she had with a bereaved mother, who shared that at first they were surrounded by friends, but today it is hard for her to be around them. Rivana immediately identified with the difficulty: "I understand her, they are moving forward and we remained. Over the years, Keren's friends drifted away. On one hand I want a connection, on the other hand I admit that there is jealousy," she said. Ilit concluded: "Rotem will not get married, will no longer start a family. The longing is not only for what was, it is also for what will not be."