I met Sidi (Sidonia) in July 1948 at my first job in this country. I arrived in the United States in April 1948. We worked side by side as floor girls in a clothing factory and quickly became good friends. We talked a lot as we were working, but I got caught talking and was fired as a result.
I was her maid of honor. We celebrated each other’s birthdays, wedding anniversaries, and many holidays. We rejoiced in our children’s birthdays, b’nai mitzvah, weddings, and then in the births of grandchildren. We traveled the world together, had a great time doing all sorts of exciting things, and we played bridge often. Sometimes when playing bridge, Milek, her husband, would get very annoyed with Sidi if she made a mistake, but it was all minor.
We were good and close friends until about five years ago; then I stopped hearing from Sidi. I would call her and she would say, “I will definitely call you soon,” but she didn’t. After a while, I stopped calling. When I finally called again, I found that their phone number had been disconnected. Of course I was worried but did not want to call their children. I guess I was afraid to hear bad news.
Finally, I called the synagogue that they belonged to in Sharon, Massachusetts, and the staff very kindly gave me her new phone number. When I finally got enough courage to dial that number, I found out that I was calling a nursing home in Bethesda, Maryland, about four miles from our house. Then I called their daughter only to find out that Sidi has Alzheimer’s and Milek has dementia.
We visited them once. Both my husband and I were devastated. We promised to visit them frequently, but so far we haven’t been able to get ourselves to go back. I am very upset that they are so unwell and also about the fact that it hurts so much that I cannot make myself go visit them.
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