Cara Hesse
My Aunt Trish's warmth, smile and contagious enthusiasm for just about anything instantly drew people to her. She wanted everyone to be their best selves and if she could, would do whatever she could to help draw that out of them. She was selfless and offered comfort, a helping hand, or encouraging word to anyone in need. Several years ago, I remember being blown away when I learned that in addition to her organized volunteer work through the St. Francis Inn, Providence House, and the Riverton Porch Club (among others) she was -- of her own initiative -- reading to an elderly resident in a nursing home because the woman had no family. Trish didn't wait for an invitation or for a more convenient time to help others. She just stepped up.
In recent years (and particularly after she was diagnosed), we began talking on a much more regular basis. Like her weekly calls with Barbara (on Monday nights) and her brother Kenneth (on Saturday mornings), our calls became a weekly highlight for me. I looked forward to our Tuesday night chats that usually started with the same question "Do you have your wine?" We would talk about our week, important things, silly things and everything in between. How I will miss those calls and talking to my aunt Trish.
To me, she was my role model, my friend, my teacher and my mentor. I occasionally sent her Mother's Day cards (as others did too) as she filled that role for me so beautifully. The last few years were incredibly difficult for her, but in true Trish fashion, she continued to look for the good in her situation. She liked to see the time she had left as a precious gift ... a time when she could treasure each moment with her loved ones. As in her life, she taught us all what it means to approach death with grace, humor and gratitude.
She was kind to others up until her last days. I am so thankful for the time I had with her. Even in her illness, she continued to connect the people in her life to each other, myself included. I had the honor and privilege of getting to know Trish and Geno's wider circle of friends and family members, and reconnecting with others -- Betty Ann, Debbie, Judy, Conant, Barbara, Kenny, Marcy, my Felter cousins, Trish's fellow teachers, porch club members and many more -- I hold these connections dear. I know in my heart that as much as Trish knew how much I would miss her, that she would also want me to look for the meaning in her loss. It's those connections she helped foster that I will always consider a gift.
I was reminded the other day how she would often ask the question, "Are you glad you came?" after convincing and cajoling us into some kind of activity like going to an art exhibit or performance, listening to a presentation or volunteering. Her energy and sense of adventure knew no bounds. Geno was most often the recipient of that question but over the years she had the occasion to ask it of all of us at some point or another (as an aside... she was smart enough not to ask me when we, as volunteers working the 2002 NYC Marathon, had to wake up at 3:00am whether or not I was glad I came).
Wherever she is now, I imagine her as smiling. And I think she is asking all who knew her whether we are glad we came to this one and only precious life we have.
