Esther's Recollections

It’s six am and of course I can’t sleep. I’m in Texarkana so somehow the events of the past 24 hours don’t seem real to me yet. I am thinking back over forty-four years. I remember as if it were yesterday the carefree days of high school where three girls met and became best friends. Shani-Chani-Esther; I didn't fit the rhyme scheme but still we were as one.

How can I describe Shani in those days? I can show you pictures but still you won’t understand; so blonde, so beautiful, so full of fun and life and laughter. We were all so innocent and naive and blissfully unaware of life’s hardships that were to come. I guess that’s the way it’s supposed to be. Shani was the first of us to get engaged, get married and have a child. Mendy said she was his childhood sweetheart. He was head over heels in love with her then and always. 

Certain images flash through my mind: 

Cutting school when Shani’s parents were on vacation-- hanging out at her house, going to Coney Island, to the movies, to Kings Plaza—and never getting caught. 

Wearing a path thin between our houses walking to visit each other every Shabbos.

Learning about “life” from Shani’s more worldly next door neighbor Audrey.

Shani arriving late one night to show off her sparkling new engagement ring.

Shopping for gowns our first time as bridesmaids.

Shani newly pregnant at my wedding.

Elie’s bris in a snowstorm.

David’s Bar Mitzvah again in a snowstorm.

We shared each other’s good times--children being born, Bar Mitzvahs, Bat Mitzvahs, weddings, grandchildren; and we sustained each other during the hard times.

Shani was sick for so many years but her illness did not define who she was; she wouldn't let it. She fiercely protected her children from her reality because that was what felt right to her. A mom should be a nurturer and not a burden to her kids. Shani taught us all lessons in courage and bravery. Not even those closest to her knew the extent of her daily pain and suffering. If you asked her how she was she would deflect you with an upbeat answer. She was always okay. You had to really press her to get a semblance of the truth and I believe she only shared that with a select few. During all the trials of endless hospitalizations, surgeries, and close to the brink experiences, we always believed Shani would persevere. How could it be otherwise? Her will to live was so strong that we thought she was invincible, and in truth how could we go on without her? As Chani said, she feels like she lost a limb. I guess that’s how it feels when you lose one of your best friends.