1 YEAR LATER
sleep, awakening to the panicked cry of your beloved cat four stories below, the time your put a
"weather rock" in the freezer to see if it really worked.  Or when you would make plastic bag
parachutes to throw a tool out the window to your husband at street level below (you thought
your parachute would work).   He tells of how you would talk to the fish in the aquarium, or
sneak up on your cats when they were play fighting to see if they really had their claws out
(they didn't).  I was really touched by the times when you (an intellectual giant) would call your
mom to inquire how to make some special dish for your husband.  I was honored and amazed to
get these calls!

Your main goal in life seemed to be to make those closest to you feel happy - - I remember
calling you at all times of day, and finding you willing to take the time to listen to the problem of
the day, and to end the calls with reassurance and humor that cured everything.   In the year
before your leaving us, I noticed I didn't get to speak with you as much, and I often felt sad,
until I came to learn that you and your brother Rich (now residing in New York near you) had
kept the phone lines burning with talk of your common interest - genealogy, and that weekends
were often spent together in libraries and other spots pursuing this time-consuming effort.

When you left for New York, I was horrified that you'd want to go to the dangerous "big city".   
The usual warnings were uttered about being careful on the subways, the lonely streets, and
myriad of dangers.  I sensed a vulnerability in my heart for you that I never could understand, as
you reassured profusely that you knew where to be and how to act.  Oh, your bravado.  But
who could have warned of the ultimate danger to rear it's inexplicably wicked head.  Oh, how
could I protect or warn of that?!

Oh, my darling, how I miss you!   My only comfort is in my belief that our creator (whom I
know as Jehovah), holds all who have died in his memory, and desires to restore us, according
to his will, to the great joy we once had.  Till then, sweet Cindy.

Mom

November 2, 2002
Pennsylvania