Neil Block
Yesterday, October 20, 2021, my family and I found out Phyllis (or as I referred to her - Aunt Phyllis) passed away. I apologize for the tardiness of this message. Aunt Phyllis was my second mother from the time of my birth to the time of her death. We lost track of each other over the last few years, but that does not mean I didn't think of her often. In fact, an old photo of me and her (and my grandfather) sits by my bedside.
It's impossible to encapsulate all the life events that we (and our families) shared into one paragraph. There were countless high moments (I remember she used to jokingly sing to me "Wonder of Wonder, Miracle of Miracles" from Fiddler on the Roof as she held both of my hands. I cracked up every time she did it. She was also a fantastic and funny storyteller. If Aunt Phyllis started to tell an old anecdote about Brooklyn or just about anything else, I was always entertained. Furthermore, I always felt safe when we were together. From as far back as I can remember, whenever we saw each other (which was all the time), she greeted me like she hadn't seen me in years, her arms wide open, her voice cheerfully raised up saying "hello, dear".
From my perspective, Aunt Phyllis was one of the most important people in my life. She was part of a small, highly exclusive circle who I unreservedly loved. Despite the fact we had no communication with each other for the past few years (which I now regret terribly), she will always be close to me.