Dearest Maria,
As I light candles for my morning meditation, I’m thinking of you and all the light you brought into my life. In these last years, my daily prayer was more of a plea for mercy: “God, have mercy and allow Maria to stay one day longer.” For life without you seemed unimaginable. Yet, as is so often the case, the universe has grander plans for you than any of us individuals. So now you have been released from your burdens and suffering. I’m so glad you believe in heaven, though I may not, for surely you will be joyfully happy there.
And you have left your family and friends with a difficult task: we are to be happy that you have found peace and tranquility. We must celebrate your light, the courage you have shown, and most particularly, those endless acts of human kindness you gifted each and every one of us. Your ability to love and be loved, no matter what our flaws are, has been a constant inspiration to me.
What I learnt from you is how life, in all its fullness, is both of everything: sadness and happiness, doubt and certainty, responsibility and freedom, and lastly, sickness and health. Your ability to embrace the positive while acknowledging the struggles was a lifelong practice of patience.
I remember the countless times when visiting, how you managed somehow to sail through all the chaos to get the girls off to school, Helmut to work, and you as well. You were the pivot point of turning every potential meltdown into something that could be fixed right then and there.
No matter what was going on, there was harmony in the chaos of daily goings-on. It was so endearing to see how Helmut, muffled in pragmatism, managed to weather the storms of female unpredictability. How you would calmly be packing lunch boxes and running downstairs with a load of laundry and then going out to quickly water the garden. All the while the family would running up or down the stairs, shouting or singing the anthem which is uniquely that of the Wittmann–Speber household.
Your girls have always been the treasure and pride of your life. They have grown into women with unmistakably unique skills and big hearts. You and Helmut gave them constancy in love. They move with confidence as adults that has grown from the knowledge they are deeply loved.
Even though we only saw each other once or twice a year, your family has always been part of the Hadley/Cavallaro family. Our children more like cousins than the children of a friend of their mother. How precious this was for them. May Anna, Fee, and Lisi and Helmut know they can always count on us if they are in need of solace.
So, the moment has come to pass forward the light of your loving being. May we all take dear, dear care to share it with our loved ones, as well as with strangers.
Winter is here, and I know I am going to miss you so intensely, be sad, and even feel diminished in my spiritual core. That is what happens when best friends part ways. Yet spring will come, won’t it, Maria? Surely there will come a time when I can think of you without tears. I can talk to you without having to lift up the phone. We met as young women and became kindred souls, sharing all the sorrows and joys that made our lives so grand. Thank you. I love you.
Love and affection,
As I light candles for my morning meditation, I’m thinking of you and all the light you brought into my life. In these last years, my daily prayer was more of a plea for mercy: “God, have mercy and allow Maria to stay one day longer.” For life without you seemed unimaginable. Yet, as is so often the case, the universe has grander plans for you than any of us individuals. So now you have been released from your burdens and suffering. I’m so glad you believe in heaven, though I may not, for surely you will be joyfully happy there.
And you have left your family and friends with a difficult task: we are to be happy that you have found peace and tranquility. We must celebrate your light, the courage you have shown, and most particularly, those endless acts of human kindness you gifted each and every one of us. Your ability to love and be loved, no matter what our flaws are, has been a constant inspiration to me.
What I learnt from you is how life, in all its fullness, is both of everything: sadness and happiness, doubt and certainty, responsibility and freedom, and lastly, sickness and health. Your ability to embrace the positive while acknowledging the struggles was a lifelong practice of patience.
I remember the countless times when visiting, how you managed somehow to sail through all the chaos to get the girls off to school, Helmut to work, and you as well. You were the pivot point of turning every potential meltdown into something that could be fixed right then and there.
No matter what was going on, there was harmony in the chaos of daily goings-on. It was so endearing to see how Helmut, muffled in pragmatism, managed to weather the storms of female unpredictability. How you would calmly be packing lunch boxes and running downstairs with a load of laundry and then going out to quickly water the garden. All the while the family would running up or down the stairs, shouting or singing the anthem which is uniquely that of the Wittmann–Speber household.
Your girls have always been the treasure and pride of your life. They have grown into women with unmistakably unique skills and big hearts. You and Helmut gave them constancy in love. They move with confidence as adults that has grown from the knowledge they are deeply loved.
Even though we only saw each other once or twice a year, your family has always been part of the Hadley/Cavallaro family. Our children more like cousins than the children of a friend of their mother. How precious this was for them. May Anna, Fee, and Lisi and Helmut know they can always count on us if they are in need of solace.
So, the moment has come to pass forward the light of your loving being. May we all take dear, dear care to share it with our loved ones, as well as with strangers.
Winter is here, and I know I am going to miss you so intensely, be sad, and even feel diminished in my spiritual core. That is what happens when best friends part ways. Yet spring will come, won’t it, Maria? Surely there will come a time when I can think of you without tears. I can talk to you without having to lift up the phone. We met as young women and became kindred souls, sharing all the sorrows and joys that made our lives so grand. Thank you. I love you.
Love and affection,
Your Lia
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