Dear Mrs. Cohn,

My sincere condolences on your recent death. I hope being mortal coil-less is treating you right. If it’s not enlightening and delightful (in a word, heavenly), I hope post-shuffling you’re finding peace and freedom.

We’ve never met but I wanted to let you know what a profound effect you’ve had on my life. Thank you for being the unwitting conduit for bringing into this razor-sharp world one of the kindest, most generous souls I’ve ever met. Four years ago, I was introduced to your daughter on a brief trip to Portugal.

(The woman that introduced us was another one of those supernaturally wonderful souls. Maybe they have a worldwide secret cadre that helps them find one another? A sort of Justice League to pluck out and encourage lesser souls like yours truly? Perhaps it’s a sort of inter- and intra-magnetism that draws us all together. Anyway, the point is without your obliging lady parts, this whole  story falls apart. Again, thank you.)

From the beginning, your daughter and I hit it off. We immediately gave one another nicknames. (I call her Nadia, long story.) We talked for less than an hour, then I returned to New York, separated by an ocean and my detestable indolence when it comes to keeping in touch with friends despite the enormity of my affection.

Not long after my return from Porto, personal and medical circumstances conflated to put me in a very bleak, joyless place. I’d liken it to slowly dying in a gloomy room with no light or mattress, with Mrs. Danvers occasionally popping in. Reaching out for help is just what I do. I find being sad, fragile or weak  tremendously embarrassing. Too ashamed to let friends know, and the seriousness of the situation wasn’t taken seriously by the few family members who knew. I wasn’t making or answering any texts or emails, my shame exacerbated my usual torpor. My two new friends in Porto were inundating me with real estate finds, going so far as to visit open houses and film properties they thought I should consider. I couldn’t bear to ignore this very sweet onslaught so I wrote and explained why I’d rudely been ignoring all their hard work. Immediately, these two magical mensches sprung into action.

In these last 4 years if you added up all the hours Nadia and I have been in the same room it may not reach 24. Still, your daughter has blessed me with her unflagging friendship and support. Thank you Mrs. Cohn, for giving me a lifelong friend whom I deeply love. No ocean will ever keep me from giving “Nadia” a shoulder to cry on, a kidney to…do kidney stuff,  a home, a partner in crime, bail money, or a shovel. But it’s more than that.  Now I have the priceless gift of knowing there’s someone out there who cares about me. Mrs. Cohn, butterfly effect-wise, I now know there are people in the world who will reliably offer their love, and who can value my unconditional love.

We never met, but I owe you so much. No matter what life brings, there’ll be more deep, dark Mrs. Danvers mineshafts. Light can be just a text away.

Thank you Mrs. Cohn.