SANDRA RAPHAELSON was born in Lawrence, Massachusetts, USA. She was one of those people you would have wanted to know.

            To this day I haven’t quite managed to put my finger on what exactly made her the unique person that she was, but in these few lines I will do my best to clarify my initial statement.

            Sandra was a petite soft-spoken woman, and yet she embodied such strength of character that one could easily mistake her for being six feet tall.

            Looking into her eyes you could immediately see her intelligence, for she had such a thirst for knowledge and knowing - incomparable to anyone I have met thus far.                                                                                                                                      Her elegance that was so much a part of who she was radiated from her, and it was so evident from the way she carried herself to the words she chose to share.

            She was a woman of few words, but once spoken those words were solid and dependable as a rock. I never heard her say something she did not mean.

Her essence demanded a high degree of respect and admiration, probably due to the fact that she lived her life like we all wish to live our own – with a solid conviction in our opinions and actions, and a strong dedication to goals and aspirations.

            She had a strong sense of compassion for family and strangers alike, always there for anyone who needed advice or a helping hand. But don’t misunderstand me, she wouldn’t let anyone get away with anything she did not see fit, not without expressing her own piece of mind.

            My grandmother was a true artist; her paintings reflect her inner world – her happiness, her sadness, her thoughts, hopes and dreams.

            But the artist in her was not satisfied merely creating, she craved to see and feel every aspect of the artistic world – and her love of art and poetry infiltrated beyond the artistic world into the world of reality for everyone she knew.

            She left that world of hers being for all of us who could not join her – that world lives on within strokes of a paintbrush and smears of color.

            My grandmother loved and has been loved in her life time – I know this for a fact, her absence will be felt.

            I will always miss her in my life. She was my kindred spirit, my conscience, my guide to places I was afraid to see.