Dear Mr. Collins,
My heart and soul are heavy as I write these words to you. Randy passed away early on 1 November, in the early a hours. We were meditating together when he his soul left took leave. It was a the most beautiful experience I have ever had in my life. I am not exaggerating.
The night before was his thirtieth bur birthday. Margaret and another social work, {sic} a nurse, another resident and I had a small birthday party for Randy in his room. He had not been away awake for several days, yet during of the singing of the birthday song, he opened his eyes and had his signature grin on his face throughout. The rest of us were smiling back, crying with joy and sadness, and laughing. After the song, he went back to sleep.
I had a strong feeling about from Randy and decided to stay the night with him. Since he arrived at hospice, we had been meditating together daily for twenty minutes. or so. He always wanted me to hold his hand. So, that night I meditated with him through the night, holding his hand, even though he was barely responsive to my touch. But then, at two a.m. a little after two a.m., Randy stirred, squeezed my hand, swallowed, then let go. And he was gone. He had a contented smile on his lips...
Next month, I am taking a trip to California for a week 10-day meditation retreat. I have made arrangements to stop in San Francisco and plan to sprinkle some of Randy’s ashes off of the Golden Gate Bridge, since he had wanted to go there.
I will save some of the ashes for you and will keep them in the box with his writing, in case you would like some ashes to sprinkle in New York City. I will hold onto the box until I hear from you.
With love and appreciation, A