Of blessed memory
I was extremely touched by Phil Horn’s remembrance piece about the loss of his beloved granddaughter, Stephanie, who appeared to have been a most extraordinary young lady (“One year later, memories of love, courage,” May 2). Each and every poignant recollection shared about Stephanie’s all-too-short life served to remind me of how fragile life can be.
My sensitivity to the essay was striking, as I approach the sixth yahrtzeit of my sister, Ronni, whose life was cut short at age 62. I live out every day knowing I never had a chance to say goodbye.
Mr. Horn’s beautifully written tribute served to remind us of how integral it is to honor the memory of our loved ones by making every moment count while ensuring that those lost to us are remembered. To honor the memory of my sister, my husband and I dedicated a Wall of Holocaust Remembrance at the College of St. Elizabeth where I had taught and subsequently retired, so that for us her life could be recalled in perpetuity and with meaning to those who are educated in her righteous name.
Mr. Horn’s words reminded me once again that the fullness of one’s life is not measured in years alone. What remains evident is that life will not always be the same without the presence of a loved one.
I extend tremendous appreciation to the author. In this sixth year without my sister, peace cups her place in my heart and holds it gently.