It is strange that two years have already passed. So much has happened to all of us, while you stopped in that same place. I ask myself where you would be now if this disaster had not happened. You would probably already be happily married, already in your second year at college, pursuing the studies you wanted so much. You would be spending hours with friends and, in short, you would be Talia. Sadly, however, you did not have that privilege, and we have been left only with your image, which accompanies us wherever we go.
In recent weeks, we have heard of so many road accidents caused by people who did not keep their distance, did not stop at a red light or did not obey instructions. Every accident reminds me of that accursed day, and every rainy day reminds me of you. I pray with all my heart that such terrible news will be eradicated and disappear, and that we shall be left with this beloved memory of you — of your smile and of the stormy spirit that lived within you.
I am now at a stage when I meet many children with learning difficulties of one degree or another, and only now have I understood how hard it was for you, and how much you fought despite it all. You did not give up. You set yourself a goal and followed it all the way — you would show the world what you were capable of. So, Talia, the world will have to wait. But your spirit, and the mark you left upon every one of us, remain and walk here with us. In my work with children who have learning difficulties, it is you who give me the motivation and the confidence that it is possible to overcome — the only question is whether one truly wants to. If I could, I would take my hat off to you.
And now another year has passed, Passover is approaching, and it is amazing that you are everywhere, at every time and on every festival. Your memory always goes with me. From time to time, I scroll through the names on my mobile telephone and stop at your name, unable to delete it from the memory, because Talia, you can never be erased from our memory.
I want to finish with the words I said when we visited your grave after the shloshim:
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!
With so much love and longing,
Liora