I don’t remember the first time I met Wanda because it seems like she’s always been here, but I think it was in the late eighties when I talked to her at a party about art and science and the inevitable wounded-ness of being human. I really loved her from the start. She could listen with an open heart and really hear what it was anyone was saying. She was a hospice angel, a visiting nurse, a therapist, a practitioner of love.

I could ask her a question about health care and she would give me the scientific answer as well as offering a spiritual consideration. I used to talk with her about psychic experiences and synchronicity and she knew exactly what I was talking about.

She loved to play games and so that’s what we did. She and her partner Diane had many game nights at their house and Richard and I were among the lucky people who got invited. This turned into a fun activity during the long winter months for a number of years. She loved to take charge of the night, introducing us to many new games and then she would whoop and holler her way through the evening. Without her clear leadership we were just a gaggle of motely fools chuckling our way through the confusing rules of the new game, with her at the helm we were warriors on the game board, ready to take on any challenge.

She loved to win. But she was also gracious when she didn’t. She used to say, “I’m highly competitive when it comes to games.” I loved her for that as I’m on the opposite end of that spectrum and it was good for me to know one of my beloved friends was a competitive-mama-of-the-first-order.

I don’t know why… we never do, but Wanda got sick, and then sicker and then she died …and it’s not fair, because you see, we need Wanda in the world. We need her special outlook, her way of keeping the game of life going, her bright light and infectious laughter.  

She was our good friend, a loving wife in a beautiful marriage, in a lovely house she and Diane created together. She was a lover, and a sweetheart and really I don’t know how we’re going to get along without her.

 I…I just don’t.