Leisa, It was nice to meet you at Sandy's Memorial Service. Thank you for putting your letter about Sandy in here, I have saved it to my files. Becky

I just learned of Sandy's death, and am very saddened by the news. I knew Sandy throughout junior and senior high school. I remember Sandy as being genuinely friendly, easily mingling with all. I had the privilege of getting to know Sandy again when she moved to Portland, Oregon where I have lived since 1975. It was great fun catching up. My heart aches for those who were closest to Sandy. May the good memories carry you through this time of tremendous loss.

Our Sandy… She was a “mommy’s girl” long before she became a “daddy’s girl.” And somewhere in between she became “Rick’s girl.” I nicknamed her “Girlie-girl,” aka GG, & she seemed to revel in that. She used to tell me that Rick would always tell her how “girlie” she was…& she was. She was all girl ~ manicures were a must, hair appointments paramount...her bangs cut “just right,” & makeup done to a “t” before she would even consider leaving the house. How she loved her babies ~ her cats ~ with a passion that few really understood. She was a sucker for a stray or a homeless feline with a sad tale to tell. And when one passed on, she would pen a tribute to each with a passion unlike any other. My favorite was her description of Betsy, who just recently passed away ~ grey coloring up the legs like a “ballerina wearing warm-up leggings,” she would write. She held on to them with nearly as much fervor as her love for Rick & her family. And she loved movies. I can picture her right now, with THE biggest bag of popcorn you could buy, walking into the many movies the “3 musketeers” shared together on a Sunday matinee “girls afternoon out,” while Rick worked. The bag of popcorn was nearly bigger than her, but ooooh, how she loved that theater popcorn! Movies were a passion of hers ~ & she was the only grown-up, other than myself, who could see Twilight as many times as I at the dollar theater in Ames…just to soak in the teen-aged love story angst over & over again. She was a true romantic. Whenever we’d pick a comedy, it was worth the moment just to sit next to her & listen to that giggle. Sometimes she’d get laughing so hard, her whole body would shake with laughter…& yet, all you would hear was that girlie-girl tee-hee-hee. One of her last emails stated that she was ready to dive head-long into her writing again. She was busy writing her life story, Somewhere in My Purse, but always with permission to include her friends & those who had impacted her early years at Central Jr. High & our alma mater Ames High. One evening some years ago, Sandy & I decided it was time to put our old Barbie dolls & outfits on eBay. As we sat on the floor of Rick’s & her home, Great Plains pizza by our side, we boasted that we had each had “the best of all possible worlds” growing up in this town with the best of families & friends. She added that even in all her travels elsewhere to live, she was much happier in her little Ames cottage with a man who truly loved her than anywhere else in the world. And she believed this, heart & soul. Sandy was amazing in her quest for holding on to “yesteryear,” as we called it. She could still, after 40-some years, put together each of Barbie’s ensems (ensembles) & tuck each piece into its designated zip-lock bag ~ shoes, hats, skirts, petticoats, sweaters, jackets, & handbags ~ all perfectly coordinated without a visual reference as to how they went together in the late l950s & early 60s. She went by sheer memory, & she was 100% correct! After 4 hours, she looked up at me & said, “You know…I’m just not ready to part with these quite yet.” There was something about those outfits that struck a chord with Sandy ~ something that was so tangible re: her youth in Ames, that she couldn’t give them up. “Maybe later…” she would add, “or maybe not…” Sandy’s little cottage was warm with the love she had for Rick, her cats, their antiques, her memoirs of which she was writing, & her prized horse print that her daddy, as she always called him, had given her on a recent Christmas past. It is difficult to think of all that there without her… We had lamented some years ago, after we both had lost our mothers, that the only good thing that comes out of this kind of loss was the ability to help the next person through their grief. She taught me that it was “okay” to say “I love you” to friends as well as family ~ especially in those difficult & trying times. She was so persistent in this endeavor, that even after years & years of signing off each of our phone conversations with “I love you, Cowgirl,” she patiently waited a good 4 years before I would feel comfortable in saying it back. There’s a life lesson in that. Tell treasured ones how much you love them when you can. Live with passion, laugh with heart, & always hold your family & friends close…no, closer. And so, as she would often end her emails to me, “Bless the beasts and the children,” I pass on the same blessing to you. Please bless our Girlie-girl. She was taken away from us far too soon, and we will most certainly miss her. We love you, Sandy.