Cousin Joy.......I miss you. You will Forever be in my Prayers. For many years, Our Families shared our lifes together. You were always prepared.....the Queen of Anticipation. I enjoyed most our times in the kitchen testing new and favorite Foods. You truly are a SPECIAL LADY. A beautiful person. Caring and supportive to all who crossed your Lifes path. When in Your company, You brought out the best in people. Thank You Joy. I'm Proud to call you Cousin.......

I want to thank Guy or whoever posted the beautiful pictures on the website. Thank you for sharing them with us.

The world will not be quite the same for the many friends Joy has left behind. Once you were her friend she would always keep in touch. She was , without a doubt, one of the most generous, thoughtful, witty, unique, one of a kind friends you could ever hope to have. Over the course of our almost 50 year friendship, which began when we met at St. John's School where her son, Guy, and my son, Mike were in first grade in El Cerrito. I was newly divorced with five children and she took me under her wings. I have so many fond memories of good and sad times. One of those times, which stands out after all these years, was when she was married to Jim. She with her wit and his fanatics, we would laugh until our stomachs ached. On one such occasion, we agreed to have a contest to see who could find the most gosh awful, horrible item that we could give to each other. We would then have to display that item on our coffee table or some prominent place in our living rooms for one month. We shopped thrift stores (Joy knew where they all were) garage sales, back alleys, anywhere. Joy & Jim gave us a large irresident cobra, a wall indescribable hanging on black velvet that glowed in the dark, and something so bad I have forgotten. We gave up when they gave us an ashtray with a skeleton in a coffin. Needless to say, they won, we should have known better. She has followed me and my family through the years from El Cerrito to Napa and, presently, Roseville with her visits, telephone calls, gifts and love. I will miss my very dear friend, Joy, in so many ways. God Bless you my dear friend Joy.

It's hard to condense a forty-year friendship in a brief paragraph. When I met her in 1967 (for help on a tax return), we found we had much in common (other than our political views, which we put aside all these years). We were both divorced, working moms, juggling work, family, and our social lives. She introduced me to cross-country skiing and the Sierra club; I took her wine tasting with friends in Napa Valley, taking turns watching the kids while the others toured the caves. She loved the challenge of traveling on her own, regaling her more timid friends with stories of her experiences and the friends she gathered along the way. I still have her hand-written list of "must take" items when I was planning my first trip abroad, over thirty years ago. We shared many good times (and laughs over the not-so-good), continuing after we both remarried within a few years of one another. My last phone conversation with her regarded plans for lunch during her stay in the city--a lunch we never had. I miss that "Lois, it's Joy" and the chuckle that always followed.

A thought for Joy: I am standing upon the grass beside the runway. Nearby a small single engine plane starts up. It moves slowly down the taxiway to the end of the runway. After a check and warmup, it rolls briskly down the runway. It is an object of beauty, strength and purring determination as it passes. It's wheels leave earth as it joyously leaps into the air. I stand and watch it climb eagerly skyward, becoming smaller and smaller until it is a little speck on a white cloud. Someone at my side says, "There, it's gone!" Gone where? Gone from sight, that is all. It is just as large, with its brightly painted fuselage and gleaming wings, as it was when it lft my side. It is just as able to bear its load of living freight to its destination. Its diminished size is in me, not in it. Just at the moment when someone at my side says, "There, it's gone," other eyes are watching it coming and other voices are taking up the glad shout, "There it comes!!!" and that is dying. By Sara Longino Dickinson