It is so difficult to write about Gail in the past tense.
Even though we hadn’t seen each other often in recent years, she was a true friend — more than that, like a member of my own family. I met her in the clinic of Dr. Dan Tzadik. Tzadik had been my teacher at Hadassah and offered me a position in his practice.
I was a young, inexperienced dentist, fresh out of school, and Gail gave me so much confidence.
When I later opened my own clinic, I “stole” her away from Dr. Tzadik.
We worked together for many years, and since we were both talkative, we shared our pasts and our present – our experiences and memories.
She was the best assistant I ever worked with: responsible, efficient, and dedicated.
She always arrived before everyone else and prepared the clinic.
In all the 25 years we worked together, she never missed a single day – not due to illness, not for personal errands, never.
She managed the inventory perfectly; we never once found ourselves short on materials or equipment.
I trusted her completely with instrument sterilization.
The patients loved her.
She was always smiling, optimistic in every situation.
She taught me that when you pick up the phone, you have to smile – because people can hear it on the other end of the line.
She resolved every disagreement with patients gently and graciously.
It was a pleasure to talk with her about anything: literature, raising children, cooking, gardening, politics.
She was a passionate Zionist.
Gail once told me that her mother used to type up recipes and organize them into folders long before we had even heard of computers here.
She was a wonderful hostess and an excellent cook.
From her, I learned to use cilantro in the kitchen.
I remember the day she got a perm – a head full of curls.
I thought it looked wonderful on her, but she claimed that her husband didn’t like the hairstyle and called her “my little broomstick”!
Soon after, she got a short haircut – and I still remember the photo with her cropped hair.
She was so proud of her husband and told me that he had begun writing a book – the beginning of his literary career.
Gail was generous and kind-hearted, always ready to help anyone, in any situation.
I’ll never forget when Roy, my son, was five.
The day before Purim, he announced that he wanted to be a tiger – only a tiger – even though he already had a cowboy costume.
Gail came over, spent the entire day, and sewed him an overall with a tail and ears from an old leopard-print dress.
Roy was thrilled and crawled on all fours all the way to kindergarten.
That costume was used by children of friends for years afterward – and even by my granddaughter in New York.
Of course, she made a beautiful quilt for each of my grandchildren.
With a full heart, she came to live in our home with her husband and her baby Talia so she could take care of my children and allow me to attend a conference in Japan.
When I told her about a conference combined with a trip to the Far East, but explained I had no one to watch Roy, then ten, and Sheli, then eight, she immediately – and so generously – offered to stay with them.
I felt completely at ease, trusting her 100%.
My children fell in love with both of them and were almost disappointed when we returned home, because Gail drove them to every activity, spoiled them lovingly, yet always maintained structure and discipline.
We went through so much together over the years – good things and hard things.
Her passing is a tremendous and incomprehensible loss.