Life has a way of challenging the way we see the next day.

I dedicate these thoughts to my cousin Robert’s wife, Perdita, who is with the Angels.

Perdita’s bravery facing cancer began with headaches and dizzy spells. Surgeries, chemotherapy, and radiation treatments to attack, reduce, and remove as much as possible of the cancerous tumor, became an impossible dream. Perdita took her last breath, in the arms of her husband Robert, on March 14, 2026.

Death is not easy to digest, accept, or believe God has chosen to “call a loved-one home,” as my grandmother used to say with a believable readiness. I remember after a business trip, before returning to Oregon, I stopped in Ohio to visit Gramma. Since I was the eldest grandchild, our connection was as real as the air between us. We were closer than close; I guess because I was the first of more cousins to come. Who I am today, I owe much to her wisdom and home-spun recipes about life. Anyway, on this particular occasion as I was leaving, I said, “Goodbye Gramma. I’ll see you on my next trip to Pennsylvania.” She was spry, at that time, in her 90s, with still a way of saying only a few words that hit you hard. “If I don’t see you, I’ll wait for you in heaven.” Needless to say, I wept all the way to the Cleveland Airport, about a two-hour car ride away. I thought her time would be soon, but she lived on her own terms, well past 100.

As I’ve gotten older, miracles have changed me and kept me from falling off the cliff. I believe Gramma is my Angel and is waiting for me with open arms.

When I think of Perdita, I recall her energetic smile and optimistic acceptance of the twists and turns she encountered. She was with me grounded, spiritual, and very attuned to a philosophy: be at peace with yourself. The last time I saw Perdita and Robert was during the week of Christmas and New Year’s Day, three years ago, in Palm Springs. My family and they shared dinners, hikes, and long conversations—filling in the blanks of what we all had been up to. Little did I know, this would be the last time I saw Perdita, because we thought that she and Robert would visit Portugal.

Perdita’s character and kindness left an impression, which I see from reading the online tributes. Each stranger’s link is the same—they will miss her and the peace and joy she brought to them.

She was Robert’s soulmate for many, many, many years. They understood, accepted, and loved each other, transcending the differences they danced through.

I think this poem, I wrote, would be something Perdita would say as she and the Angels are having tea in her garden.