Joni and I met when I was six and she was five and a half. We lived six houses apart and over the years we almost wore tracks into the pavement between her house and mine with our perpetual bike trips. Our favorite activity was having "tea parties" on her patio or mine. And years later, we'd whisper to each other - again on the patios so nobody else would hear - what we had been told about the birds and the bees (by our brothers, of course). We'd even tried putting socks into our undershirts so we'd have a preview of what it would be like when they grew naturally ... and we'd stare at our mothers' hidden-away sanitary stash, each of us wishing deeply for the red bloom of womanhood to appear on our bloomers. Too bad our not-so-good friend, Marjorie, got "it" before we got ours. I don't think we ever forgave her.

Fast forward a bit, Joni's parents - Pessie and Jules - made the awful decision that they would pack up the house and move from Parkwood Drive to Nancy Blvd, which was considered a better address. Thereupon, my friendship with Joni became inconvenient as neither of us was old enough to drive, and it was probably a two mile walk (in those days, walking was not yet in fashion). By the time we each had a license, Joni was dating Richy, and the earth stood still for anything else. It was the two of them, to the exclusion of the rest of us in what had been Joni's fan club. Lucky for J & R, it was the start of a lifetime romance.

Moving ahead a number of years to New Jersey where we both lived with our families, but didn't know the proximity of the other. Then one Saturday morning, I was in a department store, looking at boys' shirts. Something made me look up for a minute, and there I saw a precious face that was a regeneration of my five-and-a-half year old friend. And right next to him, was my Joni. After thousands of thoughts of her, there she was. With all of us living in NJ, we became the best of friends once again, making frequent tracks between Holmdel and Marlboro. But all was not perfect. Andy and Neil had taken it upon themselves to teach my sons how to ride a skateboard. Oy.

As fate would have it ... the Gottliebs soon moved to Tucson and the Weinsteins moved to Chicago. But every Sunday, regardless of long-distance rates, we met on the phone, each of us having raced through to complete the NY Times crossword puzzle (in ink!) before the other might call. The first to call was admittedly the winner that week, and that much smarter!

With thoughts of Joni and Arizona never far from my mind, we finally made the move to Phoenix and could now keep even closer touch. What we found, though, was that Joni had fallen in love again. His name was Teddy and the two of them went everywhere together, even to her classes at Skyline. It seemed that her students and the administration, well everyone who was anyone loved Teddy and understood her devotion to him. But one day, he didn't want to go with her, saying he was too tired. So she left him home alone but when she returned, instead of him jumping up to kiss her, he was laying on the tile floor with his tongue completely extended and looking worried. That's when he told her, and I quote, "_y _ongue i_ __ued _o __e __oor a__ I _an'_ _et u_("My tongue is stuck to the floor and I can't get up"). And so began Joni's years of translating for Teddy and keeping the rest of us in giggles. For those who may not remember, Teddy was Joni's hero-worshipped pooch.

Given her endless love for Richy, Andy, Neil, Jonathan, Brooke, Matt, and Jacob, as well as Kim, Sarah, and Marci, our Joni showed every day of her life an infinite capacity to bring joy, laughter, thoughtfulness, enthusiasm, and enduring compassion to those in her inner circle and at the very least a delightful smile for those she didn't know, or didn't know yet. An amazing woman, this Joni Gottlieb.

After having treasured my relationship with her for more than seventy years, how can I now live in a world without my Joni? I don't. Because she has given so much of herself to me that I can picture her, hear her, feel her presence and know positively how she would react to anything I might say to her. So for now, I'll just say, goodnight, Joni. I love you and know that you love me too.
_Sherry