Barbara Kay Davidson Perlman

My dear cousin Barbara,
I first met you when I was a 19-year-old green college student and you were already an accomplished writer, but I had been looking forward to our meeting for years, ever since your story about the red dress appeared in Seventeen. My parents adored you and were proud of you. And your letters to them intrigued me, the imaginative way you captured life’s mundane moments. For you it was not just a desire to have children, it was a desire to see diapers and small shirts...

From the moment I met you at the rehab I knew we would hit it off. Your nice smile very warm and gentle. Your manners A+ -- always 'Thank you' after I've done something for you. How good you made me feel. You made caring for you very nice and easy. I can speak for the nurses at Holy Name Hospital. I would always get a report on you before I reached your room. "Oh, she is such a nice lady," and you were known for your good looks and politeness. Oh how they loved you on that floor. ...

My dearest sister Barbara,
I can't write as eloquently as you, Julia or Ben, but if you could only know that I miss you terribly, and you will always be in my thoughts until my dying day.
Your loving brother
Stephen

Dear Mom,
I always told you the internet was amazing -- now look what we can do! None of us can ever match your wordsmithing, of course, but we'll do our best. I love you and miss you more than you could ever imagine. As I write this, though, I see New York across the river, and I know there will always be you present in that city, just as there will be in Paris, and Rome, and London, and Elba, and at Fontainebleau, and in auditorium seats and on stages and screens across the world. ...