I was very sad to hear of Jerry’s passing. The news came to me via a CaringBridge email notification. I felt a little guilty that I had not stayed in better contact the past few years. He was a remarkable man.

About five years ago, when work was scarce and I felt the need to do more than just jostle some of my routines, I decided to move to Madison Wisconsin. I knew a few people there, knew that there was a vibrant art and music scene, and thought what the hell – I would only be three hours away from Chicago if I wanted a fix of the familiar.

New work opportunities turned out to be harder, rather than easier, to find and, unmarried and fifty, creating new social networks turned out to be much more difficult to create, too. I moved back to Chicago within the year, swapping my new America’s Dairyland vehicle plates back for Land of Lincoln tags.

While I lived in Madison, I did manage to push myself in some new ways. I lost some weight and I took an improv class. I also met some wonderful people. Eager to leverage any possible connection to create a new circle of my kind of people, I almost surprised myself when I acted on my mother’s suggestion to contact a cousin of hers, a woman who, approaching seventy, was neither a peer of my mother’s nor a contemporary of mine.

Judy changed my experience of Madison in so many ways. A poet and Hebrew scholar, she had an unfailing sense of curiosity (she tried to get me to join her for Qi Qong classes more than once) and compassion. She had a lot of empathy for my situation. She didn’t know what to do with herself when she first came to Madison as the wife of a new university professor decades earlier.

I learned so much about friendships, parenting and partnerships from Judy and Jerry. They welcomed me to their home for holiday meals and introduced me to their circles of friends. I observed the high regard their friends and neighbors had for them and saw the easy, yet committed way they tried to be of service to others. When Judy was preparing to have heart surgery, Jerry, recognizing that I was only working part time, paid me to drive her on errands and help with household chores. I would have done these things for no pay, but Jerry was always thinking of ways everyone could benefit. After I moved back to Chicago, I got together with them at Shuba’s, a Lakeview area bar, where their son was playing with other musicians from New York. Jerry pulled me aside and, more than as a proud poppa, told me about the new music his son’s group was creating. I couldn’t help but think that other parents would have grimaced at their far from traditional brand of tunes.

When I read CaringBridge journal entries on Jerry’s last day, Judy and his daughter recounted how he got together with friends from Growing Power shortly before he transitioned. His affiliation with the organization was almost as dear to him as his family, and he requested that if people wanted to make a donation in his honor, Growing Power’s Vertical Farm project would be his preference.

Of course, now I had to learn more about Growing Power. Its mission, I discovered, is to help communities build sustainable food systems with a special emphasis on making good, healthy food available to lower income city dwellers who might not normally think of having this option. Growing Power’s Vertical Farm project centers around developing a five-story facility in Milwaukee, a very cutting edge design that features greenhouses, aquaponics operations, classrooms and market space. What a great idea!

The thought of Jerry’s enthusiasm as an urban planner and an educator made me smile, and I felt good that I was guided to honor his life with a donation to Growing Power. Then a thought about my broader network of relationships surfaced. Why is it that so much of my conversations with others revolve around work or gossip about mutual connections? Why have I spent so little time learning about what inspires my friends? I reminded myself that I would benefit from exposure to the passion people have for different causes and the possibilities that they may direct me to things I would want to do. Perhaps this realization is one more thing to be grateful to Jerry for.

Becoming aware of what inspires the good work of a good heart is no small thing.