Dear Kip,

When I saw the red envelope that Jerry brought in with the mail, I knew it was likely a Christmas card and glanced at the return address label in the upper left corner. And I saw only your name. I knew instantly that Chris had passed on.

But you stepped in to send the scheduled Christmas card and Christmas letter. It was so generous of you to carry on that tradition, since it was Chris’ project for both of you. And I also understand your not continuing that tradition, unless another family member steps in. Not only is it not your personal passion, but somehow it seems like it’s time to move on.

I didn’t know that Chris had died in May. My neglect of our relationship after we moved to Florida saddens me. Yes, I know she and I could have made more of an effort to stay in touch, but somehow letter writing and emails and telephone calls couldn’t compensate for her physical presence, sharing her wisdom, or the laughter in her eyes, or her stories.

Whenever we would get together for our occasional breakfast or lunch, we would race to see who would get in the friendly interrogation request: would she ask me for all my latest stories, or would I beat her to the task and ask her first. She usually beat me, so I teased her about her determination and then proceeded to update her on my life. When it was her turn, I made sure to find out about most of your family: her sisters, your kids, the grandkids. I don’t know why I was so invested in knowing about all of their lives, since I had not met most of them, but I experienced a certain pleasure in hearing their stories and about her love and commitment to them, and then getting a more complete update in the Christmas letter.

Now that I know of her passing, the grief is starting to settle in. I can’t imagine your own sense of loss. Chris was a gift to everyone; I always felt she was the greater family matriarch, with you standing valiantly by her side. She showed abundant compassion and caring to everyone. I felt a special gratitude for being in her life. I will never forget the day she told me about her advanced colon cancer (which she miraculously survived) when she was in the hospital, and I held her hand and we cried, or the time I sat with her during her chemo treatment. She always showed such courage and calm. Although she was no longer practicing Catholicism, I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone who had a stronger relationship with God outside a religious framework. Hers was true and deep.

I’m glad that you are staying active in your own life, Kip. The cars and bikes were also such a joy for you and they, along with your loving family, will sustain you. Although you and I never really knew each other very well, I knew that you were foundational to Chris’ love of life. I thank you for being the partner you were, and wish you the very best for the years ahead of you. Love, Susan

[I also dedicate this letter to all of you who have lost loved ones this past year, and offer prayers for blessings and peace.]