Four years and still waiting for justice. It still hurts and we love and miss you Cathy.
Words do not come easily for a letter like this. Would that you were here because if you were, then that would mean that you came back from California. I sit here at the table by the window looking out on the trees struggling because of the drought, and yet like you did so many times, they continue to fight to live and to be all that they were meant to be. Like you, they nurture the many little birds that look for shade in the heat of the day; they grow the fruits and devote so much energy to those tiny bits of what will become food for others. I wish I could call you. Sometimes I still hit call on my cell phone after I bring up your…
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