Esther Naimark (her married name) was one of my father's half-sisters. They shared the same father. While I was not particularly fond of her, my father sure was. He had a very introverted nature, was very old-fashioned in his values, and was never completely comfortable speaking English, since his native language was Yiddish. Perhaps because of such factors, he was marginalized and too often outright ignored by my family, so he learned to quietly retreat into his own bedroom. However, when he talked to Esther on the phone, suddenly his whole demeanor changed. He became quite talkative whenever he communicated with her over the phone. My father was internally a very strong man, having survived so much tragedy in his life. However, when Esther died, he completely broke down into tears. I remember that Friday night, when he couldnt even manage to zip through the Kiddush that religious Jewish men say on Friday nights. Shortly after that, he developed Parkinson's Disease, which in turn led to one of his legs being amputated, eventually resulting in him dying, I think, before his time.
