A group of ladies from various walks of life gathered together several weeks ago to pay homage to their beloved friend Annie Factor. Annie passed away several months ago, and although I never met her, I had heard much about her over the years. Annie had a knack for developing close friendships with many and through the painful years that she suffered from Multiple Sclerosis it was almost as if she was able to turn around her progressively debilitating journey into a positive one filled with happiness, smiles, giggles, lots of food and wonderful memories as a result of her caring and loving circle of friends. I was honored to be invited to join in this evening of reminiscence and tribute, which took place in Teaneck at the home of Lisa Rothschild.

Annie was diagnosed 18 years ago and through the beginning stages of her illness was able to manage quite well on her own. Her physical therapist, who quickly became a part of her circle of friends, shared that she had never met anyone with as much positivity and determination. She would make those around her who realized the severity of her journey feel better. Through the efforts of many, including her first cousin Rabbi Benjamin Yudin and his daughter Chaviva Rothwachs, the word began to spread that Annie could use some friendly visitors and some assistance.

Once Annie got wind of the great things that happen through Teaneck Shuls she began to post for herself asking for drivers to take her places in her own adaptable van and instantly befriending whoever it was that answered her posting.

I sat mesmerized as each person attending (a group of about 30) offered their vignettes and sad and happy memories of their experiences of spending time with Annie. She became a part of everyone’s families and relished the times that she was able to attend their simchas. She knew everyone’s favorite recipes and the ladies took pride in bringing her treats that they knew she would relish. When I heard how many brought her food and how much she loved candy I asked if she was heavy, only to find out that she definitely was not. She always assumed that everyone in her circle knew each other but in fact they did not.  It was at a Partners in Torah dinner honoring her that all of her admirers got to meet each other for the first time.

There is nothing that I can say except for the fact that I regret that I did not become one of her many admirers in life. My thought is that by reading the following eulogy that was read at her funeral, which was written so poignantly by Lisa Rothschild, you will have a better understand  of who this amazing woman really was.

First and foremost, I respectfully and humbly ask Annie mechilla (forgiveness) if ever I was not a true friend to you. I tried my best but sometimes best is not good enough. I love you and miss you already.

Before I begin, I would like to express my condolences to Annie’s beloved sons and daughter-in-laws Jeffrey and Reena and their adorable children Spence and Miri, to Richie and Danika, to Annie’s dear sisters Carol and Sheryl and her brother Ben and to all of Annie’s extended family and friends. I know that the pain today is too great because of your love for her. I understand—I feel your pain…

The famous book Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom boldy announces on the cover “an old man, a young man, and life’s greatest lesson.” I am sure many of you have read this story of a student rediscovering his love for his teacher afflicted with the chronic illness ALS. Every Tuesday he would visit his teacher. They would talk, laugh, Morrie would share his pearls of wisdom grown from challenging life experiences. Mitch would try to hold on to each word, knowing how valuable they were, knowing that there may not be another visit. He would be in pain watching his teacher’s body debilitate while his mind remained so great and his heart so full. When the time came, his heart broke at the passing of his teacher. Who would now teach him great life lessons like Morrie did, who would make him laugh like Morrie did, whose eyes would light up when he walked into the room liked Morrie’s did, who would love him like Morrie did. I feel the author’s pain with the passing of his teacher because I feel that pain with the passing of Annie. In the book the student and teacher described themselves as Tuesday people—Tuesday was their time. Well Annie and I were Wednesday people—Wednesday was our time. If I were to write a book it would be titled Wednesdays With Annie: A Beautiful Lady, a Teacher, a Friend and Life’s Greatest Lesson by Lisa Rothschild. You see for many years now, Wednesday has been my day off from work and so it became our day. In the beginning years I would always tell Annie to schedule her appointments for Wednesday. We had a routine: I would call ahead of time, telling her that I was five minutes away and she would meet me at the bottom of the hill. We would get into the Annie mobile together and the adventures began. The destinations would vary from simple haircuts, to doctor’s appointments, to visiting her niece on bedrest, the list would go on and on. For Annie, it was about the destination, another thing that she could cross off of her to-do list. For me, it was about the journey—I loved the car rides. We would catch up talking about our kids, our friends, what was new. It was our time. But as time progressed, the only destination became Annie’s house and our talks would have to be by her bedside. But that was okay, because it was still Wednesdays with Annie. The destination soon changed once again to The Daughters of Israel, but that was okay because it was still Wednesdays with Annie.

I think if I would write this book, I would want to share a piece of Annie with the readers so that they could appreciate her greatness and fall in love with her, just as I did. I would name each chapter after one of her middot, one of her attributes that I admired about her, and describe it in detail, giving examples of how she embodied it.

Chapter 1: Perseverance. Annie would not let her illness beat her. She tried her best to uphold her independence in her daily activities, maintaining her speech, feeding herself, sitting, driving, all gifts that we take for granted. At daughters of Israel, she tried occupational therapy, physical therapy and speech therapy to improve her mobility, dexterity and speech. When anyone came to visit, they would find her practicing her exercises. She wanted to be the best Annie that she could be. She was a teacher’s dream.

Chapter 2: Thirst for Knowledge. Annie loved learning. She would love listening to books on tape since she could not manage paper books. She loved when Itch would come and teach her how to daven and learn with her, and the kids wrote the aleph bet on her cast so that she could remember it. She loved learning with Bashi in Partners of Torah for which they were honored for their dedication to Torah learning years later. She enjoyed all kinds of learning, but she took especially great pride in her Torah studies because she had such pride in her Jewish heritage. Whenever you came to visit, she would tell you what she learnt, sharing her pearls of wisdom. Once again she was a teacher’s dream.

Chapter 3: Bravery. As you all know, Annie was afflicted with MS, and that brings constant change to the body. Annie had to constantly respond to those changes. It wasn’t easy giving up driving before she was ready, being on bedrest when needed, moving to Daughters of Israel when needed. Change is difficult and she was afraid each and every time. But she faced each new stage in life with courage and strength, which she found from within. She was her own greatest teacher.

Chapter 4: Chesed. Annie exemplified the middah of kindness to others. Annie would ride in her wheelchair rain or shine, across the unpaved streets of Teaneck Road to visit the elderly and bring happiness to the residents of a nearby nursing home called Bright Side. They would wait for her visit and would call if they hadn’t seen her for a while because her presence was so greatly missed. Annie also loved to host the girls from Sinai, a local school for special needs children. She looked forward to their visits, always preparing yummy snacks and opening her home and her heart to them. Thank you Annie for teaching us how to give with a full heart.

Chapter 5: Loving Mother. Annie adored her sons. She loved talking about them, always sharing their accomplishments with me. I remember how beautiful she looked in her blue gown, ready for Jeffrey’s wedding, and how beautiful she looked in her purple gown, ready for Richie’s wedding. Her beauty radiated not from the beautiful gown but from the joyous smile on her face. That joy only continued radiating from her as she called me at 6:50 a.m. one morning to share with me the most awesome news—“Lisa, I can finally tell you, Jeffrey and Reena are having twins.” I heard the same joy one Sunday evening at 10 p.m. “Lisa, I can finally tell you, Richie and Danica are expecting their first child.” When I went to visit Annie on Mother’s Day, she said that it was the best Mother’s Day she had ever had, because she met Jeffrey and Reena’s beautiful children—her grandchildren—Spence and Miri. My final memory of Annie was at the baby naming of her grandchildren. I will always remember this scene: Jeffrey reached to hold his mother’s hand while holding Spence in the other hand, Reena by his other side holding Miri, Richi and Danika smiling in the background, as the Rabbi named the children. I felt, in that moment when Jeffrey took Annie’s hand, he knew just how much wisdom and love Annie could transmit to his children. A mother is the most important teacher and Annie was the greatest of mothers. I know this, because I see in front of me her two incredible students, her sons, who will have the awesome task of teaching to their children Annie’s pearls of wisdom. I know, that just like their mother, they too will be great teachers.

Chapter 6: A family man. Annie adored her family. She would talk about her nieces and nephews with pride as if they were her own children. She would keep me updated on all of their joyous occasions and mourn with them for their painful losses. When her sisters or brother and their families were coming to visit, she would talk about it for days, as if the royals are coming, because that is the way she viewed their visits. She never missed an opportunity to share with people that she is Rabbi Yudin’s cousin. She took such pride in this fact. She cherished deeply each phone call and Friday visit with a full heart.  Janet—you were not her caretaker, you were not her friend, you were her family. You cared for her with love and warmth always maintaining her dignity and grace—thank you. Belle and Sal, how does one say thank you for all that you did for Annie? You kept her life running, always trying to reinvent ways to give her greater quality of life. I know the journey was not an easy one, and at times it was extremely rocky, but you held on tight until you were certain that Annie reached her final destination safely. There are no words. So on behalf of Annie, I just want to say “thank you.” Annie taught us the meaning of the expression “family first.” Annie loved her family dearly and her family was always first in her mind and in her heart.

Chapter 7: A true friend. Annie was a very special friend. She loved her friends dearly. We each feel blessed that we had the privilege to be called her friends. She would thank you profusely when you came to visit. In response, I would always give her a kiss on the cheek and say, “I love you, Annie, thank you for having me,” and she would shine her wry smile at me. What Annie couldn’t appreciate was how blessed I felt to have her as a friend and how I knew each additional visit with her was a gift from above. Like a true friend, she shared in your joy and felt your pain in any loss. She wanted her friends to feel appreciated. She had a birthday list, and she took great pride in being the first to call you on your birthday to send you wishes for a special day, and an even more special year. Every year, Annie wanted to make a Chanukah party to thank her friends for their generous friendship. Ironically…around July, I would get a phone call that we have to start planning the Chanukah party. I would say okay… and for the next 5 months we would discuss the party. She would agonize over the menu, even though we always did Chinese. We would dwell over how the guest list would not fit into her apartment; despite this, she still expanded the guest list as her circle of friends grew with every passing year. In anticipation of each party, she would say “I hope Benji could speak” and every year Rabbi Yudin would speak beautiful, touching words of torah. Every year she would say: “What will we do about desserts?” and every year her friends outdid themselves with yummy treats. Each year it was more beautiful than the next because of the people who came and the love for Annie that bonded us all together. Annie thought no one would come to her Chanukah party this past year because it was to be held in a new destination—Daughters of Israel, but it was more special than ever because there was a reunion of the old chevra and an introduction of the new chevra—her incredible West Orange friends from outside and inside her new home—Daughters of Israel. Annie always wanted to give us hakarat hatov but we should give it to Annie for all that she taught us by example: what it is to be a beautiful friend inside and outside, sharing with us her sense of humor, her generous nature and her one-of-a-kind smile. Annie was a friend par excellence.

Chapter 8: The final chapter—saying goodbye. How I dreaded writing this chapter since I missed the opportunity to see you at your last destination St. Barnabas Hospital. I never got to say goodbye and for that my heart is broken. So much I would have said or maybe said nothing at all, just to hold your hand one last time and tell you that I love you with all of my heart. Just to hold on one last time and hope to never let you go. But that was not God’s will; He wanted me to remember you with a smile on your face beaming with joy at Temple Emeth with your family surrounding you. I take comfort in your passing serenely and peacefully in your sleep just as you desired, I take comfort in knowing you are in a better place not bound by physical limitations. Your soul is soaring to great heights as you ascend to become an angel in heaven. I take comfort in a quote from Tuesdays with Morrie, “death ends a life not a relationship.” Annie, you are no longer physically with us but your spirit lives on in each of us. The life lessons which you imparted to each of us through wise words or by example are a part of us and we will make you proud as your students, practicing and passing on your life lessons to the next generation, thereby keeping our relationship, our bond to you alive in our hearts. Time is an amazing gift. It is defined by past, present and future. I find comfort in the past because it holds the beautiful memories I shared with Annie—with my family at my side. The present is painful and lonely, which became so blatant yesterday as Amy and I entered Annie’s empty room at Daughters of Israel. Ironically, yesterday was Wednesday—our Wednesday—my time with Annie, but there was no Annie—we were Wednesday people… My future is my goal to perpetuate my friend, my teacher, my Annie’s legacy in a very special way. I know that each of you could write your own chapter in this book sharing your special memories and the life lessons you gained from Annie’s friendship. I share with you the honor of perpetuating her legacy now and forever. T’hei neshamata tzruyah btror chaim.

By Nina Glick