I was horribly saddened to hear about the passing of a family friend, Elizabeth Limor. I do not know if the Tennessean will have a story eulogizing this incredible woman, but if not, shame on them. She and her family have been pillars of the Nashville community for years upon years. To give yourself a little background, I would strongly recommend reading her story as a holocaust survivor. Others can, and should expound on her memoirs and life story.
I’d like to take a moment, though, to tell how much she meant to me and my family on a more personal level.
Like so many of our friendships, this one came about because Mrs Limor was a patient of Lintilla’s. Of course, Lintilla hits it off with everyone, plus they also had a personal connection. Lintilla’s mother was a teacher with the Temple playschool for 13 years and Lintilla spent a few years assisting her. It just so happened that one of the children that she worked with was one of Mrs. Limor’s grandsons.
A few years later, Lintilla was working at a rehabilitation facility and encountered Mrs. Limor as a patient. Needless to say, a bond was made and they remained friends. Also, as you can see in the photo above, my son stole Elizabeth’s heart (pictured with another former patient of Lintilla’s and good friend of Mrs. Limor’s, Mrs. Inge L.).
Since Lintilla keeps in touch with all of her patients, she was quite pleased when Mrs Limor moved into a community right across the street from our house, literally within walking distance. This started some wonderful days of visits – Mrs Limor was always generous in inviting our family to her home. She made the most wonderful dinners (it was here that I discovered that I loved blintzes), and let the kids play with her overflowing supply of stuffed animals (kept, no doubt, to entertain her grandchildren and great-grandchildren).
She was always quick with advice, and although sometimes I had trouble deciphering her still thick accent, the meaning of what she was telling us was never lost. She gave us signed copies of her book; after reading it, I decided she was the toughest (strongest) person I’d ever met, vowed to quit complaining about how rough I have it (I fail miserably sometimes). I regret that we lost that book in our house fire and would love to have another copy.
It’s hard to express the gratitude I have to Mrs Limor; she was a grandmotherly figure to my kids when they most needed it. We are all better off, having known her.
There is a wonderful entry in the online guestbook in memoriam for Mrs Limor. It says, “Elizabeth loved to collect people. I am honored to be part of her collection. She will always live in my heart.” This says it better than I could.
Lintilla and I would like to offer our sincerest condolences to Mrs Limor’s family. She will be missed.