There will be some that read this salvo today and say, well I think freely and I'm my own person and not really tied to anyone too much.
Cynthia was the manager of a neuropsych clinic which helped people that had sustained traumatic brain injuries (TBIs).  There were consultations, testings, and counseling being given by experts in the field.  Cynthia was really at the heart of what was going on there, and the one that helped put the patients at ease.  Amongst other things, she always seemed cheerful to me, and her little bulldog she called Moose as I remember it had little moose antlers and laid by her side as she worked through the tensions and stresses that come with serious work in scheduling appointments, deposition and trial calendars, billings, and still taking the time to give reassurance and kindness to all the patients coming there for help.
There was a big bundle of balloons that arrived at my Univ. of Colorado hospital bed in the summer of 2015, as I lay there with a heart that had given out, overloaded with fluids and soon sepsis and chronic renal dialysis failure to name a few.  The bundle of balloons had right in the middle of it “GET WELL SOON” and shortly thereafter a plaque came that started with “GOD'S PROMISES”.
When I inquired where they came from I was told that the “GET WELL”balloons were from the neuropsych staff at the clinic and
“GOD'S PROMISES” were from family.  I thought it strange when I moved from room to room all that summer that the GET WELL balloons never deflated as they floated in the rooms with GOD'S PROMISES.
In the years that followed, I talked to Cynthia more than a handful of times about Life as we talked about the needs of my clients, and she told me that things had happened to her, that she was not close to the church any more.  She said she had her own problems she was working through.
Cynthia later told me she had cancer and it was a serious kind.  Months later we rejoiced in Life since the doctors were changing their opinion and saying it was something she would just be able to live with.  We agreed let's just count it all joy.
Yesterday, I got a strange fax from a new person at the neuropsych clinic showing a bill owing for thousands of dollars on a case that was disbursed in 2018.  I was a little panicky, but thought I'll start with Cynthia and she can get this all straightened out.  When the lady answered I asked for Cynthia, and she said I'm sorry to be the one to tell you that Cynthia passed on in Feb. 2022.  I don't really have a good recall of the rest of the call, but I told her to tell the doctor, “Cynthia is on to glory.” 
I've left Cynthia on the salvo list, hoping this might be some encouragement to Cynthia's family.

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