Cyndy Towse-Cook

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@zonnet.nl Herman van der Woude

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Feb 24, 2013, 2:42:11 PM2/24/13
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This afternoon (Dutch time) I heard from a mutual acquaintance that
Cyndy passed away last Frida, February 22, 2013. It came to me as a
huge shock.

Ten years ago, maybe even longer, this American lady was in Oxford for
holidays, the place of Morse and of Colin Dexter, of course. I learned
to know her through Morse and she introduced me to the Inspector Morse
Society in 2001.

When we learned that she was heading for Oxford I persuaded my wife
Astrid to go to Oxford as well to meet this lady friend I had written
with since a few years. We had a wonderful meeting in Oxford in the
month of March and we went together to visit Blenheim Castle in
Woodstock, to visit the pub there which played a role in 'Last Bus to
Woodstock' and we visited Snowshill Manor in the Cotswold, which she
liked very much although she had her fears because of her
claustrophobia.

We met Colin Dexter, her mentor in crime-writing as he said (she was
about to publish her first crime novel, she thought), we had breakfast
together in the Linton Lodge, the Best Western hotel where Astrid and I
stayed - in short it was a week well spent!
Born an American-Hawaian girl, she felt at hom in Old England, even
claimed that her ancestors must have been English, the way she felt.

After this week when we all returned home, life continued. Cyndi and I
wrote, e-mailed, a lot. I sent her copies of music I thought she would
like, she sent me CD's too. She prayed a lot for me and my sister who
was suffering from breast cancer as she "once" did. I don't think she
really could understand that someone could not be religious. I am not.
But I am not American, as she was.

After her divorce she broke of her contacts with Astrid and me. We did
not know why, but we assumed she wanted a new life for herself, new
beginnings. After a year, when we got in touch again, she confirmed
this in a way. She had moved away from Texas, she found a new man in
her life, she had a new job. She still was writing - a second novel,
though she had not managed yet to find a publisher for her first one.
Writing was not that important any more, I thought.

I knew she had cancer problems she hoped to be healed of. In vain, as
we know now. A few years ago I learned that her cancer had returned. It
was this illness that would bring her life to an end, as I learned
today.

After her start of her new life, Astrid and I stayed a bit on the
background. As we understood it, it was her choice to close her 'old
life' and everything that belonged to it, including us, as she wanted
to move on. There only was an occasional, very irregular, perhaps once
a year e-mail contact. Now I feel sorry, that I did not bother more,
but now it is too late.

Poor Cyndi, I will miss you. For you, me lass, I hope that you kept
your faith till the end. It will have helped you to cross the final
threshold. I surely do hope, that your children and your husband have
the strength to overcome the loss of you.

--
Cheers!
Herman van der Woude


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