I met Elaine in the fifth grade. She was never less than kind to me. She had a wonderful, raspy laugh, often punctuated by an eye-rolling recitation of my name: "Oh, Teddy!" We corresponded sporadically through the years, but I hadn't seen her for ever so long. I'd hoped to rectify that at the 40th reunion. It's not to be. Again, the fragility and capriciousness of life and death move and startle me. I will miss Elaine. She was the very soul of a good human being. I hope her life was rich and laden with happy moments. One always wishes a final hug were allowed, but that's not how it works. So: Thank you, Elaine. I don't believe in heavens or gods or afterlives; you are part of the Mystery now. I don't believe you can hear me. But if you could, I'd tell you what a lovely woman you were and how much I appreciated you. A heavy sigh, and a fond farewell.
Ted Hoffman
I met Elaine in the fifth grade. She was never less than kind to me. She had a wonderful, raspy laugh, often punctuated by an eye-rolling recitation of my name: "Oh, Teddy!" We corresponded sporadically through the years, but I hadn't seen her for ever so long. I'd hoped to rectify that at the 40th reunion. It's not to be. Again, the fragility and capriciousness of life and death move and startle me. I will miss Elaine. She was the very soul of a good human being. I hope her life was rich and laden with happy moments. One always wishes a final hug were allowed, but that's not how it works. So: Thank you, Elaine. I don't believe in heavens or gods or afterlives; you are part of the Mystery now. I don't believe you can hear me. But if you could, I'd tell you what a lovely woman you were and how much I appreciated you. A heavy sigh, and a fond farewell.