We are coming up on Rick’s first Yahrzeit (the anniversary of his death) this Friday, April 7th.

It’s been an unsettling and challenging year of self-discovery, change, and growth.  In the past few months I have processed profound loss and sadness, locked up by the shock and speed with which he passed.

Looking back now, among the things I miss most, besides his companionship, is the sound of his mellifluous actor’s voice; when he spoke, people sat up and took notice.

The other thing I miss is his mind; those idiosyncratic takes on things—deeply felt—that connected his own colorful, adventurous life experience and lifted conversation and a view of the world to a different and sometimes higher level.

Thanks to the faithful love and support of good friends and family and a wise counselor (I’ve never sought therapy before), I’m beginning to move into a new life. This year I participated in a mini-triathalon, kayaked on the Chesapeake Bay, celebrated our grandson’s bar mitzvah in Burlington, Vermont, and have finally been able to get back to volunteering in person--tutoring second and third graders below their reading level because of the pandemic. It has been a joyful experience to be with them, and the mere thought of what they say and do regularly brings a smile to my face.

Rick will always be with me, in my love and memory of him, as I set off on new adventures. As he always liked to say, “Life Goes On.”