When Sifra was born, Renate’s parents came over with Tabita and Priscilla, so that the whole family could share a moment with her. Priscilla, too young to understand the concept of death, was proud to recognize “the baby” everyone had talked about. Tabita sat for a long time and looked at the baby sister they were not to bring home.

Tabita is a thinker and she will talk about Sifra. She still remembers the moments she shared with her grandmother and talks about her often, keeping her memories alive. When she forgets something, she asks about it. “What did grandma say when I said so and so? Did she laugh?” Tabita was my mother’s first grandchild and the two had a special bond. Tabita will never forget that. She wasn’t old when she starting asking her mother to put on family tapes with her grandmother playing the piano or holding her as a baby in her arms.

When my dog Aslan died, Tabita talked about it at home. A few months later, she came up to me, looked me in the eyes and asked with a voice full of concern: “Esther, when Aslan died, were you sad then?” I had been so sad that I hadn’t  talked about it, but Tabita wanted to talk about it and so we did. When a pigeon died in their garden a few weeks before leaving for Holland, Tabita insisted they bury it, just like her father had burried Aslan. And so they did.

Tabita will talk about her sister. We all will. As I look at pictures of my baby niece, my heart smiles with pride. She is beautiful, sharing her sisters’ newborn trait. She will be talked about. She will be remembered.