I suppose it’s common to envy your best friend, to wish you possessed her traits that you’re lacking. In my case it’s magnified, because Nancy and I were completely different. I admired her fearlessness; how nothing deterred this girl from doing or getting anything she set her sights on. Any challenge she’d encounter (personal, emotional, as well as physical) she’d conquer head on. Whereas I might be inclined to give up, Nancy found strength in situations where I didn’t think there was strength to be found.

Wherever I went with Nancy, whether department stores, supermarkets, drugstores, and so on, strangers and salespeople would frequently ask if we were sisters. She would think this was crazy but I would just laugh. They’d say our behavior and the banter between us was like sisters. That was always a secret thrill for me that people could confuse me, even if for a moment, with this strong-willed independent person.

I was so proud to be Nancy’s friend. To walk into parties with her, to have her pick me up to go to shul, to be included in her vacation plans. I relished her selflessness. How many times I forgot to buy chicken and kugel for Shabbos and how she would unhesitatingly share her chicken, no matter how little she had for herself. She’d pretend like she was doing it grudgingly. That was my Nancy. Tough on the outside with the heart of gold on the inside.

Hanie, I have many friends in my life but no one has come close to making me feel as good about myself as Nancy. That was her gift. I could go on and on but the bottom line remains the same. She was an amazing friend to me. And now I walk around all day questioning repeatedly in my head, was I as good a friend to her as she was to me? Was I as selfless and loyal? My savior isn’t here now to reassure me that I was up to par with what she expected from a friend. I must live with the fear that she doesn’t know how much I truly appreciated her and loved her.

I try so hard to push out of my mind the horrifying thought that we will not grow old together, that she won’t be walking down my (G-d willing) wedding aisle and that our children won’t play together. We would joke that at sixty years old I’d still be asking her to share her chicken with my family and me. It’s too terrifying to think about that. I can only think how I had the absolute privilege of having the friend of a lifetime.

Mindy Elfenbein