Finances were not a worry for her.So five days a week, young boys and girls filed in and out of her front door with sheet music stuck under their arms... Music, it seemed, became the backdrop of our neighborhood. At any given time, Mozart or Ravel could be heard wafting over the backyard fences.When my wife was at home dying of cancer, she always wanted her window opened just a crack just so she could hear the melodies (no matter how badly they were sometimes performed.)She died in April at the. .She ran her hand all the way from the boot up to her garter belt before standing back up and allowing the dress to close up. We paid for her dress and she ensisted on wearing it and said she was hungry and she wanted to walk to one of the side walk cafes in the Virginia Highlands. We stopped at one and where seated right next to the raught iron handrail that I guess was to keep the traffic out of your lap. She was next to the rail and I kept hearing whistles and hoots, I couldn't see her. More

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