Dear Ferret Folks-

I met Rebecca because we had friends in common. For a long time I
thought her name was Larry, because her e-mail always read "Larry
McFarlane". I'm sure I sent her a few "Dear Larry" notes at first, but
she was nice about it, and didn't mention that I was an idiot. Finally,
I managed to connect "Rebecca", "Dragons" and "Larry" in their proper
contexts, and I made a lovely friend.

I just looked in my mailbox, and I have 81 messages from Rebecca. When
I review them , I do not see a *single one* that is *itching and
moaning about her life, her circumstances at that moment. She was often
mourning the loss of one of her many ferrets, (I understand that she
had 41 at the time of her death) but she was not whining about how
sorry she felt for herself, she was just savoring the life of her small
friend who had passed.

Many of her messages are encouragement....asking me to ignore an FML
message from someone I rubbed the wrong way (MOI?). What used to amuse
me about these is that she would get angry *for* me, if she percieved
that I had somehow been slighted. Most of the time, I wasn't the least
bit upset by what someone else had written in, but she was ready to
kick some ass! She was always sending me encouraging messages if she
found out that I was ill, or that something sad had happened in my
life. Again, not a peep of complaint about her own, except to mourn
the loss of one of her many ferrets.

In a way, I feel sad about that, because I feel that I missed some
aspect of the woman she was. Certainly, she must of had as many things
to *itch and moan about as the rest of us, but I never heard a peep.
Rebecca spoiled me....she only gave me the positive stuff. Where did
the negative stuff go? Perhaps to her closer friends, but I suspect
that even there, she put a positive spin on things. It was her nature.

Once she absolutely amazed me. I was given a HUGE cardboard box from
Rebecca, who sent it along with Wolfy as the courier to an IFC
confrence she knew I'd be at. It was stuffed *full* of soft, fleecy,
John Deere bedding that she had made. Not only was there bedding for
Ping and Puma, there was bedding for *me*! A blanket that still
shuttles back and forth between my bed and the sofa. My husband
loves it.

I felt wretched when I learned of her death. I have a message from her
on the day before she died, and not a *peep* that she had been having
health problems. Nothing. It came as a complete surprise. I felt so
badly for her husband Larry, whom I only knew as a picture she had sent
me of him...ah...trying on a black brassiere. I did not know what to
say to Larry...um...you never met me, but I will miss Rebecca forever
was about what I wrote on the note I sent with the card. It was the
truth. Sometimes the truth is the best, least complicated thing. I
spread out the lovely tractor blanket on my bed, and put a little glass
dish of 'tone down on it. I snapped a picture of Ping and Puma having
a slurp in Rebeccas memory, and put that in with the card, too.

It wasn't enough, folks, it wasn't enough. But it was the best I
could do.

Alexandra in MA

[Posted in FML 5410]