Talia,
For a month now, I have been stopping myself from picking up the telephone to see how you are. But once again, all of us are gathered here in your honour, and look how many people are here...
Our lives were intertwined from the beginning. One of our first photographs shows the two of us as babies lying beside one another, and everyone would think that you were me and I was you...
And then it continued through all the festivals, when every year we held the Seder night and Rosh Hashanah together. One thing is certain: there was never a dull moment. We searched for the afikoman together, drove everyone mad by bargaining over how to obtain a better present, and did not give up until we received what we wanted. Sometimes, when I began talking too much, you made sure to silence me... Although, thank God, both our families grew and in recent years our festival custom was somewhat disrupted, I still cannot take in the fact that from now on you will never celebrate the festivals with us again.
After I was told that I would no longer have the privilege of seeing you, different stories and so many experiences that we shared began running through my mind. One story that has accompanied me since I was twelve is something that I do not know whether many people noticed, but I know that I learnt a great deal from it about you and about how one ought to be.
I remember that when we were twelve, one girl was rather sad and somewhat left out. You decided that, at least for her bat mitzvah, you would invest a great deal and do everything you could to make her happy — simply because that was who you were. And you really did organise the party, dance, go wild and buy presents — anything to bring her joy.
Throughout the funeral, all I could think about was how many people were there, how many friends you had made and cared for. That truly was what characterised you most — your sociability. Wherever you went, you always found friends and always made sure that they were well and happy. It is so difficult for me to think that I have lost a good friend whom I will never have the privilege of seeing again.
I remember how happy you were when I told you that I was getting married, and how you immediately telephoned me. I truly knew that it came from real joy and love. Although we did not speak every day, or even every week, we always made sure through our mothers to keep up to date with what was happening in each other’s lives.
I also remembered how you fought the army so that you could serve, and how you fought the schools so that you could take your matriculation examinations. You never made things easy for yourself. You always knew what you wanted and did everything to reach it. At the Midrasha too, although it was difficult, you did it because “it is important and this is what I want”, as you would say to me.
I also remember the weddings of Jeremy, Benjy and Doron: how each time it was the greatest happiness for you, how proud you were of your brothers, and how every wedding was another opportunity for us to go wild — the main thing was to create joy. Then, when the nephews came, the happiness only grew. Your mobile telephone was full of their photographs, and you travelled to see them at every opportunity.
And now I think about the fact that I will not have the privilege of dancing at your wedding, although the two of you were already very close to it, and I am so sad about that.
After someone dies, people always say that it is better for them now. I am certain that it is good for you now, but I keep thinking that you are probably up there organising things, making everyone smile and enjoy themselves — because that was who you were. That truly is my strongest memory of you.
So I hope you are looking at us now and know how much we miss you and how much we love you. I hope you forgive me for all the things I did to you in life, and I promise you that I shall never forget you.
Talia,
I cannot believe that we have to say goodbye and that you will no longer walk here on earth. But at least be certain that every one of the people here takes you with them every day. I know that I do. I take with me the warmth and love you showered upon everyone. I take with me the joy and optimism that always shone from your eyes. I take with me the strength to fight for the important things and not to give up on myself even in moments of crisis. I take you with me everywhere — always!
.