Dear Annie,

I am sorry we did not stay in touch as much as we could have. Nothing really happened to shift our lives onto different roads. I think you and I just kept growing with our kids - you in your neighborhood and I in mine. Our hours were filled and we chose to fill it in ways that worked for us. Nothing happened really - just kids growing up and finding their way, and we growing alongside them, watching them and steering them in ways that made sense to us and our families. In my heart, you remained my friend. I do not keep the habit of checking on people I have befriended. It is a fault of mine. But I know my heart is pure. I love you and admire you, my old friend. Today when I saw your children's eyes light up with recognition and appreciation as their eyes met mine, I feel we're good.

People described you as elegant. You WERE more than that. You were fine, as fine as the masterful art pieces you loved.

You described yourself as dependable. Definitely. And you were also warm and nurturing. Your home felt that way the moment we stepped into it.

You were candid and pragmatic, yes, and humble too, with a great sense of humor. You laughed at yourself. You laughed with me.

You taught me a lot about dealing with the world in which we operate everyday - offering your perspective, the perspective of your family, and encouraging me to look at my own thinking. You were someone who made it in this United States of America, without compromising your own principles and values. On the contrary, you embraced what others offered you, and you persuaded them to see the world as how you see it. My journalist uncle would have cited you as one who had successfully assimilated into North American life. I think he would not have said the same thing about me, and that is okay with me. You were surely one person who was comfortable in her own skin. You were confident of yourself so that even in times when you faced uncertainty, you were determined to stay on top of things and overcome obstacles in your nice and firm way. You were a lady true and true.

Best of all, you are a memory maker, a mother who was just about one of the best ones I know. I could not and probably will never be able to do what you have done for your three children. I am not as dedicated and committed to my children in the same way that you were to your children. For instance, I do not have as much patience and motivation to bring them everywhere for extra-curricular activities. You and Danny put your children in the center of your universe and wish only to give them the best of what you can offer them. That is admirable. CL and I are still finding our way in this world as a couple even after all these years, and at the same time our children are also searching and clearing their own path. It is how it is because CL and I do not have the same kind of attention for our children like you and Danny had. You and Danny were set in your careers. CL and I have just become more stable recently. I also know that we are not as even-keeled as a couple. Tension has always marked our relationship. I do not see the same kind of tension between you and Danny. I often wondered why CL cannot be more like Danny. I can bet that CL wished that I were more like you. I sometimes envied the relationship you had with Danny. But this feeling was always overcome by my recognition and respect for the love and respect you have for one another. That feeling of envy did not linger though. My admiration for you trumped it all the time. I could only strive to be the best that I can be as a mother and partner.

While I continue to find myself and my way in this world, I will look to you for inspiration. You with your warm smile and the cups of tea you have offered me so many times. Those memories will soothe my nerves and warm my heart. I will take care of your frog...it is the least I can do for you, my friend. I did introduce you to those lovely frogs, didn't I? Hopefully your family got that message. If there is another way to let them know I would love to have the frog, show me.

Rest peacefully, Annie.

Lynne May