Eleanor Dashevsky
August 31, 1926 – July 22, 1995

Following my mother's death after surgery, we discovered her final message to us:

I recently heard an astronomer speaking about the creation of the universe. He remarked that everything of and on the earth came from space and the stars . . . all the ingredients that make up all the minerals, vegetable life and animal life originated up there in the stars. And so, each of us human beings is really made of comets and stardust. I liked the poetry of that thought; and, to me, poetry is often the only way to express our deepest feelings and thoughts.

The thought that we are now, and always will be, a part of the universe seems very good to me. When we look up at the stars twinkling in the sky, it is possible to feel the warm energy of loved ones who have died, embracing us even though we know it is very cold up there in star space.

Another thought that keeps buzzing around in my head these days is who are we essentially? When you strip away our face of youth, when we no longer have a career we're pursuing, when appearances are insignificant, when keeping life busy and full of tasks is not valued . . . who are we? Some learn earlier than others that only the ones we love are essential to life. We simply become who we are through the ones we have loved and love. It is the warmth of loving and being loved which defines and becomes us forever . . .

To my dear loved ones,