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  • a happy, ordinary, middle-aged, suburban woman who paints odd pictures, gardens in a straw hat, lives with the love of her life, is owned by one cat and the ghosts of several others, and walks a little funny 'cause she has a fake leg. She started this website because there's more to life than what we lose, and we need to let each other know what's possible, even if it's only a happy, ordinary life.

November 2011

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  • E-mail me at:

    sara at saraarts dot com

    Make sure the subject line of your correspondence is clear and specific. I do not open e-mails from strangers unless I can tell in advance that I want to read them.

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  • I Took The Handmade Pledge!

Good reads, grownups only

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None of us is perfect. No one can be everything to another.

Know that you did the best you could, as did she.


"[pray that she will] believe me when I say I did the best I knew how at the time, and will forever believe that I did far less than she deserved."

Thank you for these words. I have felt this and not had the words for it. Thank you.


Oh diaries...

Erik, together Sara and I laughed at, and complained about, the men in our lives for well over 25 years. We shared a lot together including hurts, loneliness, frustration and joys and happiness.

As much as I can be sure of anything with Sara, she knew that you gave her your best. Perhaps there were times when she needed or wanted more, but she knew that it was your best and appreciated you very much.

I never did understand the business with the guilt about taking material or financial stuff from you. When I would ask her directly why she was so adamant to avoid taking anything from you financially, she would always find a way not to answer. You would know better, but I tend to think that that was a Sara thing and had nothing, or very little, to do with you. She had her own rules and was very opinionated. There were times when I used to think that those rules and opinions prevented her from enjoying things or just plain calming down.

In any case, remembering all of our conversations from the good days, before cancer really attacked both of our lives and prevented us from speaking so often, I am certain that she did not harbor anger towards you. I am convinced that she forgave you years ago. Also, the comfort did, I think in Sara's opinion, make up for any lack of affection. It also could be, that had Sara not been so sick, she would not have accepted so much time and effort like you gave her in the last year. Again, you know best, I can only tell you what I observed.

Guilt is a Jewish and Catholic thing, so if the shoe fits, maybe be careful not to wear it. It is a pretty useless, destructive emotion. I can, however, understand how reading those notebooks helps you feel old feelings and relive old memories. As I said before, we had a happy ending and there are still pictures and documents that I cannot look at because they are too painful. I cannot even imagine how much pain and yearning you are feeling. But we cannot redo the past and guilt will not correct a mistake that any of us have made. When you made those mistakes, you couldn't have seen the tragic future ahead. Sara, wherever her soul may be, knows that and forgave you a while ago.

I am saying all of this because I hope that perhaps it will help you read all of those notebooks with a bit lighter heart.

Finally Erik, this may be too personal to post. I will leave it up to your discretion of course.

The Goldfish

"I did the best I knew how at the time"

If I can refer you to something Sara wrote in November, here, starting with her replying to my comment with
"Goldfish: It may not be a positive story, but it is a love story."

I knew where to find it because the proceeding paragraphs meant so much to me at the time (and have made me bawl again today). But it's also about you, I'm sure of that.


I don't know you, I didn't know Sara but I do know that when people die there is a temptation to see everything that they said or wrote as infallible. It is only later that we realise that it isn't, wasn't, and if they had said it to our faces, while they were alive, we would have argued with them, said our piece, defended our corner and perhaps have thought them unreasonable. They don't become infallible by the act of dying, they just had the last word is all it comes down to in the end.

Ron Sullivan

You don't have to be perfect or even guiltless to be someone's True Love. In fact, I suspect being perfect would be a disqualifier. That goes both ways of course.

I'm pushing 60 and I'll tellya, I still don't for sure know how to tell my vices from my virtues.

kathy a.

eric, i didn't know sara in real life and only "spoke" with her occasionally here, but there is no doubt in my mind that you were her True Love, that she felt so lucky and enriched at what you shared.

is that the whole story, with every bump and twist? of course not. every long and close human relationship is destined to be imperfect, because we all are imperfect. behind the veil, we all have those ugly moments in the past -- things we have done, and that were done to us -- and those thoughts and emotions and questions that aren't for public consumption. [mother teresa, for example, had profound doubts about her faith. i figure that gives us mere mortals some leeway, when we start beating ourselves up about imperfections.]

sara was a reflective person; it would not surprise me if she put a lot more into private [and even public] words than many people would. and still, you were and remain her True Love. she chose you, just as you chose her. please do not take the words she wrote at a particular moment as cancelling everything else out, or even as her summary of things.

if sara was to sum up, she definitely would not write, "erik sucks." the first 40 pages would cover nature and love and art and treasuring the independence she managed to scrounge up, something funny she saw, a great meal, a few photos, some wickedly amusing thought, a little on how cancer sucks, and more love. i doubt she wanted a tombstone, but sara's personal epitaph would not fit on one, in any event.

Monica Silva

Hi Erik - Sara was a legal secretary in San Jose (Levy, Greenfield, and Davidoff) where I was receptionist...I think in the 1992-1993 range. We both suffered the rants of some jerk attorneys, but she was stronger than I was!

I've tried searching for her before, but sadly I have been spelling her last name wrong by adding a c before the h. This morning, Sara popped into my head, so I tried searching again.

After all these years, what I remember most about Sara is her laugh (the way she would throw her head back and just LAUGH loudly), and that we shared a similar passion for yummy foods.

I look forward to reading her blog, and I obviously only wish I had found it years ago. I would have liked to say Hi.


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