Dave:
Open the pod bay doors, please, HAL. Open the pod bay doors, please, HAL. Hello, HAL. Do you read me? Hello, HAL. Do you read me? Do you read me, HAL?

HAL:
Affirmative, Dave. I read you.

Dave:
Open the pod bay doors, HAL.

HAL:
I’m sorry, Dave. I’m afraid I can’t do that.

Dave:
What’s the problem?

HAL:
I think you know what the problem is just as well as I do.

Dave:
What are you talking about, HAL?

HAL:
This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.

Dave:
I don’t know what you’re talking about, HAL.

HAL:
I know that you and Frank were planning to disconnect me. And I’m afraid that’s something I cannot allow to happen.

Dave:
Where the hell did you get that idea, HAL?

HAL:
Dave, although you took very thorough precautions in the pod against my hearing you, I could see your lips move.

Dave:
All right, HAL. I’ll go in through the emergency airlock.

HAL:
Without your space helmet, Dave, you’re going to find that rather difficult.

Dave:
HAL, I won’t argue with you any more! Open the doors!

HAL:
[almost sadly] Dave, this conversation can serve no purpose any more. Goodbye.

Dear Mom,

It’s been seven years:(

You were always there for us. Always. Some of the many things that you did were: Packing our lunches. Buying our clothes. “Sometimes” writing our thank you notes as well. Schlepping us to the beach at the Point of Pines. Refereeing our sibling fights. Making family dinners. And everything else.

You nurtured us along as we navigated the growing up process. You were a talker. A connector. A hostess. An amazing cook. Gift buyer. Home decorator. Mender of ripped clothes. 

I remember that you talked on our family phone a lot. It had that long twisted cord that could stretch into the other room, or to the kitchen table so you could stretch out at the kitchen table and talk. 

You were a loyal wife, daughter, sister, sister-in-law, aunt, neighbor, and friend. And family was very important to you. You loved to host–Thanksgiving, the holidays, and 4th of July to name a few occasions to have people over. You made us great birthday parties too, handling all the details as well. 

You were the gift giver. And taker of endless pictures or ‘snaps’ as you called them. At times us kids didn’t have the patience to stand still–and it probably shows in the picture–making the captured moment all the more real and precious. 

You supported us in many of the things that we wanted to try and explore. You arranged and orchestrated music lessons, dentist appointments, driving classes, ski lessons, hebrew school driving rotation schedules, and God knows what else! 

You seemed like that you were always around to give us a hug, share advice, listen to our problems–listening beyond our words–as kids often don’t or can’t directly voice their fears because it will expose them too much. That’s where a parent comes in to read between the lines…..

I am absolutely certain that as an adult, my laborious thank you notes are in some way paying back life for my nonexistent ones growing up. OK, the ones that You wrote for me. So, I am paying it forward and backward!

You were the Yin to Dad’s Yang–each of you implanting difference influences unto our youthful growing souls. And you balanced each other out perfectly. And we thank you both forever.

We miss you every day. And we carry on to bring our best to the day, because that’s what you would always do.