We’d like to show the side of the world you don’t normally see on television.

Dear Caren~~~~~

Dear Caren,

I knew today was coming and I knew it would bring back many memories of you, my dear friend. Your amazing spirit entered the world on this day, 56 years ago. And, your physical self left this world 6 months ago. I miss you. I wish we'd been more in touch over the last few years of your life, I thought there was time for that...

So, today I wish to honor you and allow your love and energy to soothe me. I could ramble on about sadness and how it's too bad life didn't deal you a better hand---but I think you would rather something else come off my fingertips right now.

Let's sit together right now and laugh.

Remember the Blizzard of '78? We woke up and kept looking out the window, amazed at what we were seeing, SNOW!!! And then we, probably more you, decided that we must walk down to the stores a short distance away. You decided that we should buy toilet paper, just in case... after all, it was a Snow Emergency! Never mind that we were well stocked with toilet paper, we laughed as we told each other that the most important thing to have during a snow emergency was toilet paper! We also decided to buy some other essentials---chips, popcorn, and other snacks, and we hit the liquor store to buy Galiano.

As we walked back to our apartment building, the snow fall was much worse than when we had left---we held onto each other for balance and what should have taken us 10 minutes, turned into a half hour. We were the only nuts outside. When we arrived home, we stopped and rang all the doorbells of our friends and invited them over for a Blizzard party; we also played Doorbell Ditch with a few other not so good friends. And, our giggling and laughing gave us away...they found us hiding in the stairwell...

Finally, two days later, we were actually happy to be able to go to work. As we took the bus to the subway, marveling at the piles of snow everywhere, remember the lady who tripped exiting the bus? Why did we both laugh at that? And, why did YOU laugh when a mere few minutes later, I slipped and fell down the stairs trying to catch the N train? And then, why did I laugh when you called me later from work to tell me that YOU had tripped, and were brought to your knees in the middle of 6th Avenue?

We knew that Instant Karma had paid us both a visit as we both nursed our bruises later on that evening at home. You and I vowed to never laugh at anyone who tripped, unless we couldn't help ourselves and unless we could find a safe place to be first, before laughing...

Months of fun and laughter passed, and in the late spring, you were there for me when I learned that my favorite aunt had died---and my parents had chosen to wait until a few weeks after she had died to break the news to me. You reminded me that a part of me must have known because I spoke about getting in touch with her at work, and yet I didn't make that call. You humored me when I wanted to contact her through a make shift Ouija board---but then it was you who found a note card from her in the desk drawer. I still have that little note card tucked away.

That same spring, when I had decided to take a share in a house out in the Hamptons to escape to each weekend, you sat up with me, late at night, as I sewed clothes to wear so I could fit in with the other women out there...you would help hem the pants and sew buttons on the blouses as the drone of the sewing machine continued and our laughter helped pass the time. You were there to listen as I would plot out my strategy for the weekend, in my quest to have fun in a house full of sticks in the mud...

And you would be standing by the door when I returned each Sunday evening, begging to be filled in on my weekend away...

As my new found friends made their way into my life, you welcomed them into your life as well.

Remember when we made a bridal/baby shower for Linda? We rushed around cleaning the apartment and you ran out to a friend's house to pick up a few things. You had instructed me before leaving to spray the kitchen and bathroom with bug spray because of the roach problem that plagued our apartment building and we didn't want those things around, especially during the shower. I did as you instructed, I sprayed behind the stove, under the sink, around the refrigerator and along the baseboards...

You called me from Fran's house to ask me something and while we were on the phone, I began to hear a terrific noise coming from the kitchen....I told you to hang on and if I didn't make it back to the phone you should call for help. I slowly made my way to the kitchen, and began to squeal and scream as I saw the sight that greeted me. You see, I had been very thorough with the bug spray...and a bazillion bugs were covering the walls, rushing out from behind the stove, racing from under the sink, and from behind the clock on the wall! Those suckers were ALL over the place. I was frozen there, unable to move, just watching this bug fest taking place in our kitchen---

I lost track of time, as I stood there, wondering how I was going to deal with this---you, meanwhile, got worried and came home. You joined me in screaming and squealing, and then we both dealt with it in the best way we knew how---we first decided that a drink was in order, and then another drink, and then another. Fortified and strengthened, we took turns with the vacuum and then flipped a coin to see which of us would be the lucky one to deal with the vacuum cleaner bag------and I lost...

I think it was you who had the brilliant idea to spray the kitchen again---and we waited, and sure enough, reinforcement troops of roaches literally sprang out of the woodwork---then it was YOUR turn to empty the bag...

And, remember that Christmas in 1978, neither of us had enough money for a decent tree, or so we thought. As we drove one night on the Long Island Expressway, to the local Christmas tree lot, I reached into the pocket of the winter coat I hadn't used in a year. I felt something in the pocket of the coat that felt like money. You were driving and laughed when I told you that there was something in my pocket that might be money...and we both giggled with pleasure when I discovered it was a $20 bill, certain that the Universe had delivered a wonderful gift to us!

I learned a lot from you during that holiday...when Christmas morning arrived, we opened our gifts to each other---we couldn't afford much when it came to gifts. When I opened your gift to me, I realized what gift giving was really about. You gave me a small camera and there was a note on the camera. The note read: "For you to take pictures to capture your weekend adventures in theHamptons ...so that you have memories to share with me, and yourself---when you are old." I didn't even know that I should need a camera for my weekend jaunts out to the beach---but you did! And, I learned that day what a giving a gift really means....you always did that with gifts.

You were there encouraging me, as I made my way through my life back then---I don't think a day passed without something wild always either happening to me, or to you. We'd laugh each night and compare the notes of our day with each other.

You helped me to not feel so vulnerable, when our apartment was robbed and you helped me buy another pair of roller skates to replace the ones that had been stolen. You tolerated me roller skating in the living room, so I wouldn't make a fool of myself at the roller rink and you turned up the volume on the disco music so I could feel the beat as I pranced around on my skates. I still have those skates, gold laces and all~~~~

During that time, you were there when I met the man who would end up by being my husband and I think that you saw that I was looking for someone to protect me from more burglaries, or worse. You welcomed him into our lives...and you both took great pleasure in pranking me with hilarious variations of Jewish traditions that you told me I must practice. You and he shared the bond of being Jewish, and I was the shiksa who fell for your jokes...I know I got even with him a few years later----but I still owe you one...

You were there for my wedding, and marveled at the good fortune that seemed to be a part of my life---for weeks and weeks before the big day, it had rained, and it had rained every single weekend. The night before my wedding we spoke on the phone as a horrible storm raged outside and you told me not to worry and that things always worked out for me. The next day dawned, and there was not a cloud in the sky---you were right!

Fast forward through the years and even when I moved to Florida, we shared our ups and downs with each other---you knew my struggles and you knew my pain. I called you when I knew my dad was dying and that I would be returning to New York to spend his last hours with him---and you took time off from work to be there at his wake and funeral. Thank you.

And when I finally got pregnant, after years and years of despair, you were overjoyed for me and honored us with being my son's god-mother. Life took over after that and our communication dwindled. As my boys grew, they would spend hours going through the hundreds of pictures that I had taken with the camera you had given me---and they saw pictures of Aunt Caren, but couldn't figure out how you could be their aunt when you weren't my sister or their dad's sister...

That's when I began to explain to them, what you and I discovered when we met---that we were the sisters that neither of us ever had. Sisters...

I didn't pick up the phone to call you as much as I should have, yet I would think about you often. I looked forward to seeing you, when you called to tell me that your mom was retiring to a community just a few minutes from my house. I didn't hear from you, and life was so busy for me---when I finally called you and you told me that your mom had fallen ill and died within a few months of moving south---my heart broke for you. But my life was busy and we lost touch again. I am sorry, it was always too much about me, not enough about you...

When I was diagnosed with cancer, we briefly touched base with each other---you tried, I know, to maintain the contact, but I was distancing myself from anything in my past, I withdrew into myself and we lost touch again...or did we? I felt you with me when I struggled to forget who I used to be, as I tried to get used to the me who had cancer. You were with me...

A few years went by and we emailed---you encouraged me when you learned I was ending my marriage---but were impatient with me when I expressed my fears of being on my own. After all, you had been doing it for most of your life---and you told me that you knew me before I was fearful and you asked me where that person had gone...I didn't like hearing that, and we lost touch with each other, again.

One day in September, last year, you came into my mind and I realized that I should call you---

My schedule at work was crazy and my hours unpredictable and then my mother asked me about you and I made up my mind to call you the following weekend. That very next Sunday, I turned on a cellphone that I rarely used and there was a message, from someone whose name sounded familiar and as she asked me to call her, she reminded me in her voicemail that she was your friend.

And, I knew.

I thought maybe I was wrong, and called your number---heard your message on your voicemail and left you my message. But I knew...

When confirmation came the next day, the day of your funeral, I realized that you had been with me, in my thoughts to call you---I wouldn't have reached you anyway because you had already left this life.

As I contacted others, I learned of your courage and strength as you knew that your life would be ending within a matter of just days...you had no notice but just a few days to get used to the idea that you were dying and I wish I had known, so I could have been there. I was told that you wanted no one to know, you didn't want it that way...but still.

You've been with me often, Caren, over these past 6 months---reminding me with the memories of the me I once was, and the sister you are...

I wasn't as good a friend, or as close of a sister as I should have been, and I must console myself now with pictures of way back when...With snapshots taken with the camera you gave me, to capture memories to look at, at a time down the road...without you, a long time friend.

So, here's to you Caren---you continue to teach me, as I've sat here reflecting on my mistakes, my thoughtlessness with our friendship and sisterhood. I feel you with me, comforting me and telling me to go easy on myself. You are strengthening me and telling me that I am still the me that I once was, and that we are still the sisters we knew we always were.

I feel better now---so tell me Caren, how is it wherever it is that you are? And...I promise to listen and stay more in touch with you---but first can you answer another question---because I forget---why was it that we played, over and over and over again, those freakin' Barry Manilow and Donna Summer tapes?

With much appreciation and love,

Your Sister

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Comment by Jeanne on March 25, 2009 at 1:06pm: I laughed, I cried... and I related. Just this morning I had a first disagreeable moment with my soul sister of more than 30 years. I'm going to send her this link and tell her I will love her always...