Yesterday was my husband, Rocky’s 73rd birthday. Today we are meeting his sister and her husband at Rolla, which is half-way between our respective homes. We do this several times a year to have a visit and lunch. We exchange news and gifts for a few hours and then depart. I am always impressed with Rocky’s family and their efforts to stay current with each other. At least once a year the three Rockenbach siblings get together at some point of interest and we spend a few days together, see the sights, catch up on family news and then go in different directions. It is easy to fit in with the Rockenbachs for they were raised up from the good earth in Illinois and Missouri…..are very strong in mind and body and have given back more than they have taken. I admire them all.

Since it is an early ‘departure’ I am sharing a few words I wrote for Barbara in March 1984. When events happen I am most usually reaching for a pen to write them down and record my feelings.
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I REMEMBER BARBARA

Your ears will never hear what I have to say nor will your eyes read these few lines. I knew you only four and one-half months. We were not close friends and we never had much time to find out about one another’s lives. We saw each other three days a week as we changed shifts - made necessary comments to each other about price changes - a few social pleasantries exchanged and I would be on my way home.

The Christmas season came and you did something that was unexpected and loving at our employee’s Christmas party. Instead of the usual gift for the name drawn in our gift exchange, you also gave a comical little, fat, crystal pig to everyone. We could see it made you happy to do it. The unselfish act of giving above and beyond the necessary gift not only won my admiration but lit a candle of faith in a selfish world.

Then, suddenly, alone on your shift two days later you were shot and killed shortly after 4:00 o’clock in the morning. The paper called you a middle-aged clerk and gave a cold account of a convenience store murder. In the weeks since, I find many remembrances of the person you were. I thought we didn’t know one another very well. Still, your life spoke to me then….as now. Such a fleeting span of time and yet a positive impression was made.

I hope, in living, I touched your life as you have touched mine. I look at your little pig and I remember a friend.

You are missed.
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Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther