I heard about Florence even before I came to Seattle in 1979.  Anthony arrived here in 1978 to start teaching in the Communications Department, then headed by Alex,  and he wrote to me about the kindness and hospitality shown to him by the Edelsteins, with whom he stayed while looking for an apartment.  After I arrived the following year, Florence often not only entertained us, but helped and advised me in my house hunting, and her support and friendship made my settling down in a foreign country much easier.

Florence was a wonderful hostess. Barbara and I always looked forward to our regular lunches with her at "the resort" as we called her apartment, not only because of its lovely views, but also because she always made us feel so welcome.  We also eagerly anticipated our 4th July celebrations.  It was magical sitting on the balcony on a warm Summer evening with her,  sipping champagne and oohing and aahing at the fire works.

We often talked on the phone - at least once a week.  She enjoyed the newspaper and told me that she always checked the obituaries first, then had a crack at the crossword puzzle before reading the rest.  She was an absolute whizz at those cross words and could whip through most of one at an amazing speed.

I spoke to her on her last Wednesday.  She was cheerful and perky,as always, but she did mention that she needed to see her doctor again soon due to an intestinal problem.  She then talked about death.  She said that she had had a long and happy life, her children and grandchildren were doing well and that she was content and prepared to die.  I had a strong feeling that she knew the end was near and that she faced it bravely and willingly.

Barbara and I will miss her terribly, but we are both grateful for the love, support and friendship she provided.  I loved her voice and I continue to hear it as I have imaginary conversations with her.

My friend Chryan sent me this today.  It is a Jewish remembrance.

At the rising of the sun and at its going down.

We remember them.

At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter.

We remember them.

At the opening of the buds and the rebirth of spring.

We remember them.

At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer.

We remember them.

At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of autumn.

We remember them.

At the beginning of the year and when it ends.

We remember them.

When we are weary and in need of strength.

We remember them.

When we are lost and sick at heart.

We remember them.

When we have joy we crave to share.

We remember them.

When we have decisions that are difficult to make.

We remember them.

When we have achievements that are based on theirs.

We remember them.

As long as we live, they too will live,

for they are a part of us.