My dearest Lissa, one of my lifelong friends … I know you and I know how tough you are … I know you want me to call you Lissa but to me you will always be Elissa or Lisa … 7th grade was where we met and while I have seen you very few times in the past 54 years, I think about you often because we shared a love of theatre or should I say drama. I remember you hanging over the balcony at the Paris Arts theatre where we saw “Romeo & Juliet” and wailing … I recall the many nights we slept at each others’ houses and the days we cut school at my mom’s apartment. Do you remember the drills we used to have? You used to call the house to see if you could come up but sometimes mom hadn’t left for work yet or came back unexpectedly and she was one suspicious woman. One day, we drilled by putting you in my sister’s closet with the sliding door and I forgot about you for several hours. I thought you’d suffocated in there. But we got in trouble that day because Paula, your lovely, wonderful older sister had driven to school with your bag lunch that you’d left at home that day. Oops … she showed up at my door with your lunch and for a long time held it over your head and didn’t tell your folks. While we both auditioned for PA, I didn’t get in because of my lousy math and science grades and the long train trip to the city, but I hung out with you and your friends and you so graciously included me with them wherever you went. I know you, Lissa, and you have the bones of a the well-born, strong-headed, strong-willed and willful and you will tackle this thing on the days you have the strength to do so and on the days you don’t, everyone who loves you like me will pick up the task. I love you, my friend…. I love you, Lissa.... Robin xoxoxoxo
