When I haven't seen or heard from someone in awhile, they remain in my mind as they were. There are a few people in my mind like this, three dimensional and whole, laughing and unbent by time. And then sometimes, out of the clear blue I get a note referring to them and the image becomes flatter, more like a photograph than an essence recalled. Sometimes they move or have had children, sometimes they have become disfigured or have completed some great work. Sometimes they die. It's difficult today to see the memory flatten of a relatively healthy, vital, completely honest and feisty woman who laughed at her own gullibility, drank wine and decorated her home with a truly artistic eye. She was, by accounts, actually quite sick this past while. She died at Toronto East General Hospital this morning, surrounded by family and friends. I have no idea what she looked like there - I only have images of her in her home, visiting friends and working. She was a fiercely loving mother and grandmother, spiritually devote and certain. She lived more in her short life than most do in five full ones. Good night, Suzanne.