Esther is Naomi's oldest child, her only daughter, and I know that Naomi would have given anything to be with Esther on this important day. Naomi lost her brave battle against breast cancer about 9 or 10 years ago, but it doesn't feel as if she has been gone for that long.
I remember when I first met Naomi. She and her husband Jay were hosting a young couple's group at their home and Esther and Craig were toddlers running around and Naomi looked so glamorous and comfortable as a hostess; I was mesmerized. Later, when her son Craig and my oldest son, Josh, became best friends, she and I became incredibly close. Our families would gather for dinner at one of our homes at least once a week. Naomi was a unique soul; she was a talented singer and there was always something a bit theatrical about her. She was incredibly stylish and loved the world of fashion and glamour. Yet, she was also incredibly down to earth and amazingly real. She was an intensely loyal friend and those moments are some of the ones that stand out the most to me.
I remember one summer, I came down with a terrible stomach virus and I started feeling faint. All three kids were home and Emily was probably under two. My parents were out of town, my husband was at work and planned on attending a work-related party that evening which he said he wouldn't be able to miss. I felt so frightened that I would pass out and the kids would be unattended. As soon as Naomi answered her phone, as soon as I heard her chipper voice, I felt safe. She said she'd be right over, and she took all three kids plus her three kids to the pool for the day. That night, she brought them back and ordered pizza and got everyone fed. She certainly didn't feel that she had done anything extraordinary; but the truth was, I felt loved and safe that day in the way that only those who really know and love us can make us feel.
Each year on my birthday, Naomi would set a date to take me to Neiman Marcus. Honestly, it was probably the only time all year that I would go there. Naomi knew the women who worked the makeup counters, and she would have them treat me like I was a visiting queen. Naomi loved makeup and knew everything about the fancy brands. She would have them give me a makeover, and then she would treat me to a few of the products as my birthday gift. Then, we would go upstairs to the cafe and have a very grown up ladies' lunch. I cherished those annual outings and looked so forward to them each year. Naomi knew how to make a person feel special.
Something happened to our friendship though as the years went on. As my marriage darkened, I found her unwilling or unable to explore the sad bold truth about my life. Naomi always wanted to see life's glitter; she never wanted to look too closely at the dust underneath. Maybe this was a survival mechanism for her. She had difficult, narcissistic parents who had not completely protected their three daughters. As the oldest sister, Naomi felt the brunt of much of that I think.
Then, when she was diagnosed with cancer, she fought like crazy to shield her own three young children from the terrible reality. I completely understood that fierce maternal desire, but it extended beyond her kids to other relationships as well, and I found it hard to have real talks with her. Sometimes, she seemed secretive; other times, she seemed in denial. I blame her for neither; she was just trying to survive. The problem was, my marriage was filled with secrets and denial, and I was trying desperately to brave my way into a new more honest place. Naomi couldn't go there with me, so we drifted apart.
She had been in remission for several years, and I had not heard that she had taken a turn for the worse. We had spent most of that summer in Cape Cod, and when we returned, Josh and Craig were leaving to go to a Maccabi youth group event out of town. Jay came over to pick something up that Craig had left at our house, and when I answered the door, he looked terrible. "She's in the hospital," he said "and you need to go see her tomorrow." I was shocked at his insistency and knew that things were so much worse than I could've imagined.
The next morning on my way to the hospital, I stopped at the drugstore and bought every fashion magazine they had. Clutching the Vogue, Harper's Bazaar and other periodicals in my hands, I got off the elevator on Naomi's floor. The nurse directed me to a room, but when I peeked in the door, I was sure that they had made a mistake. The woman sleeping in the bed must have weighed 80 pounds and looked so frail and so unlike my vibrant friend that I would never have recognized her. The nurse saw me hesitate at the door and gently pushed me into the room. "Go on in," she said. "She'll wake up."
Naomi opened her eyes and smiled at me."You're back," she said. To this day, I get teary-eyed when I remember that moment. I guess she meant that I was back from the Cape, but what I heard was: Now you're back with me, you're back in my life.
I put the magazines on the window sill feeling silly for having brought them. This was not a woman who was going to leisurely page through a copy of Vogue turning down the corners to mark things to buy.
We talked about our kids. I tried very hard to be strong; I tried not to cry. "They say things are getting better," she said. "I'll be out of here soon." She died that night.
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| Josh and Craig (about 20 years ago)!! |
1 comment:
And, I will be thinking of you - sure that Naomi is deeply grateful that you are there, able to hold it all, celebration and sadness, and witness this moment in her daughter's life. Thank you for writing. This is a beautiful tribute to Naomi, your friendship, the reality of our humanity.
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