I could not, for some reason, bring myself to go to a memorial service today for someone I worked with for nearly 30 years. Instead, I fell back on an “escape” from organized religion that I used quite often in my 20s – going to nature.

I’m not sure why I couldn’t go today. Perhaps it was that I wasn’t that close with Cindy. It would have been nice to see some of my BBNA folks, to let them know I share their sense of loss. But maybe that was my stubborn side’s point in not letting me go: if I want to see them, I should arrange it on my own and not take the opportunistic route. Someone’s memorial service is not, after all, a time to be social.

I don’t think it’s the cancer thing. At least, not Robert’s cancer – that nasty stuff still lurks in the back of my mind all the time, but I don’t let it get in the way. And, I know there’s no connection between Cindy’s death and Robert’s wellness. More likely, it would have something to do with all my BNA people who are no longer with us. I don’t even want to think back through the list – it’s too long, and it makes me too sad.

I think the real reason is the rituals I could not bring myself to go through. Not the Christian ones – I’m sure I would have been interested in the Presbyterian liturgy – I found myself surprisingly comforted by the pastor’s words at the Lutheran service when Susan died a couple of years ago. It’s more the social rituals – seeing the BNA people under these same circumstances, yet one more time. Acknowledging each other’s presence, shaking our heads in disbelief that another of our colleagues had died too soon, too young, with too much left to do in this world.

So, on from the maudlin: I took Chewey to Rock Creek Park instead.

I thought a lot about Cindy – her wit, her perception, her focus. I remembered all the times she patiently answered my questions at BNA shareholders’ meetings, keeping the focus on her duty as a director and corporate secretary to look out for the best interests of the company’s owners. I also remembered the times she brought humor into what otherwise could have been dull and dry meetings, making sure that we laughed and had fun even while we attended to serious business.

I can’t help but think she would have been pleased to be remembered in nature – a setting where I seldom saw her, but one in which I’m sure she felt at home. What could be more religious, more awe-inspiring than clear, crisp air and a vista showing Rock Creek and the hillside beyond?

So, this is for you, Cindy Bolbach. I hope you are smiling still.