Sarah Ann Feinstein

Memorial Tribute

The Obituary

Sarah Ann Feinstein, our beautiful baby girl, passed away at the age of 21 years, 212 days, on December 21, 2002. Sarah's funeral was held on the afternoon of Christmas Eve. The pastor's remarks were based on the theme of the movie, "A Wonderful Life." He talked about how many people Sarah influenced over the years. (We do not have the text of those remarks.) The funeral remarks included on this page were presented by the cystic fibrosis nurse practitioner who knew Sarah for about 9 years. As part of her funeral service, the family prepared some remarks that are shown here, as well as "The Wish List," which were prepared by the family. They are here after the funeral remarks for you to read if you wish to know more about Sarah.

~ OBITUARY ~

Sarah Ann Feinstein, 21, of Bridgeton, New Jersey, died Saturday, December 21, 2002, at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. Although hospitalized for the last two weeks, her death was unexpected.

Sarah was born in Bridgeton and had lived in Bridgeton all her life. She was the daughter of Samuel W. and Gloria (nee Shafer) Feinstein of Bridgeton.

A member of the Bridgeton High School Class of 1999, she had attended Hollins University in Roanoke, Virginia, but had withdrawn because of her illness. Sarah received several scholarship offers and chose Hollins University because of her love of horses and horseback riding. She had been active in equestrian competitions at Southwind Stables on Lebanon Road. Most recently, she had pursued her studies through on-line courses at Baker College for Post-Graduate Studies.

During summers, she worked at the summer camp program at Woodland Country Day School. She had also been a campaign volunteer during elections in Bridgeton.

Sarah was a budding amateur astronomer and had created her own website to help others find their way around the sky.

From the time she was younger, Sarah was called upon as a community resource at Children’s Hospital in Philadelphia to counsel families with babies who were born with cystic fibrosis.

Recently Sarah had learned to play the guitar and the family was proud of her many talents.

In addition to her parents, she is survived by one sister, Susan E. Feinstein, and her fiance, Jim McCloskey, and one brother, Nathaniel B. Feinstein, her paternal grandparents, Arthur and Virginia Feinstein, and her maternal grandmother, Elizabeth Shafer; uncles Ron Shafer, David Feinstein and Michael Feinstein and his wife Kay; aunts Anne Feinstein and Claire Frankel and her husband, Steve; aunts Donna Shafer, Jo-Ann Garner, and Robin Feinstein; and cousins Jennipher, Michael and Stephanie Shafer, Rachel and Amelia Feinstein, Christine Girone and Lawrence Shafer, Jr. She was predeceased by her maternal grandfather, Isaac Roy Shafer, and an uncle, Lawrence “Larry” Shafer.

Funeral services will be held Tuesday afternoon, December 24th at 2 o’clock at the Freitag Funeral Home in Bridgeton. The internment will be made at Overlook Cemetery. Friends will be received at the funeral home Tuesday afternoon from 1 until 2 o’clock. Sarah loved flowers and they would be welcomed or memorial contributions may be made to the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia or to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation.

The Funeral Remarks

These remarks were prepared and presented by Barbara Heinrich, CRNP, at Sarah's funeral.

I have known Sarah nearly 9 years…ever since I became a nurse practitioner at the Cystic Fibrosis Center at Children’s Hospital. I always looked forward to seeing Sarah at her outpatient office visits, and especially enjoyed spending time talking with her during her hospitalizations when things weren’t as rushed. Sarah always seemed be doing, or if not doing, then planning something very interesting and always a little off beat. Who else would think to name a lizard, “Lassie?” Yes, there was definitely something very special about Sarah, something that, after you spoke with her, caused you to step back and look at the world from a different angle.

Those of us who were involved with Sarah’s CF care sometimes found it hard to understand Sarah’s way of looking at things. From the time I first met her, it was clear to me that Sarah was her own woman with strong convictions about how her life would be lived. Each decision she made regarding her medical care, was made with these convictions in mind. I have to be honest and say that I didn’t always agree with her choices. But Sarah knew what was important to her, and she had the resolve and determination to stick to her principles. There was a core of steel in that frail body that all of us on her team truly admired; in spite of the challenges it sometimes presented us! And yet, along with her strong convictions, there was a gentleness that will always, for many of us, be associated with Sarah.

I was always curious about the source of Sarah’s strength of character. I’m sure a case can be made for genes and family influence. But in discussions I have had with others in the last two days, and from my own observations, I have come to appreciate the strong influence Sarah’s spiritual nature has had on her character.

For all her own problems, Sarah rarely drew attention to or focused on herself. She had a keen sense of other people’s needs, and sought to help when she could. At the hospital, she would frequently speak with parents of younger children who were facing the diagnosis of CF for the first time. Many times I would go in for a teaching session with these parents, prepared to comfort them when the crying inevitably started, and find that the parent had spoken with “this sweet girl who had CF” and she had answered all their questions about what it was like for a child to live with CF. They were always relieved to have gotten an honest answer that also gave them the hope that maybe CF wouldn’t be so overwhelming on a day to day basis.

Sarah’s sense of the spiritual was apparent in her appreciation and respect all of creation. She took delight in the stars in the sky, even creating a web site to help others locate celestial objects. She loved nature and took great joy in flowers especially; and she shared that joy by giving her flowers to other children when she left the hospital. Animals (both furry and scaly), were a special love of hers and she had a real bond with her pets, though I have to say that I never understood how someone who loved animals so much could be so unlucky with deer.

Sarah also knew how to celebrate and appreciate each day, seeing the beauty, humor, and adventure in the present moment. I looked forward to, and yet dreaded her descriptions of her latest restaurant adventure. She could describe in great detail every amazing smell and taste. It would always leave me so hungry hours before my next meal! And yet I always found myself coming back for more…

Sarah also had a sense of her own place in creation. She understood the connectedness that unites us all. She saw life as a cycle of birth and death, and was comfortable with knowing that one day she too would die, and her body would return to the dust of the earth. Sarah and I didn’t talk much about what happens after life here ends, but she was of the opinion that whatever is destined to happen, its occurrence would not be dependent on whether she believed in it or not. She was so comfortable with not knowing for sure. As intelligent as she was, Sarah was okay with not having all the answers. In fact, I’m sure many of you have found that while in conversation with Sarah, she would inevitably start asking some pretty tough questions. How many of us were always trying to answer those questions as she simply watched us and smiled? You see that was another bright facet of Sarah’s spiritual nature: her ability to be content with all the unanswered questions.

I know I speak for all those who cared for Sarah at Children’s Hospital: the doctors, nursing staff, nurse practitioners, nutritionists, social workers, physical therapists, respiratory therapists, office staff, ward clerks and all who were a part of her hospital world, when I say that we will miss her very much. Sarah was a very special person, and we all feel privileged and blessed to have been able to share in even a small part of her life.

~~~~~~~~~~

The following remarks were prepared by the family and included in the pastor's remarks at Sarah's funeral:

If you asked Sarah how she was doing right now, she would smile and give you the thumbs-up sign and say, “Great!” Anyone who knew Sarah knows that this was always her answer, no matter how she really felt.

Sarah always thought of others before thinking of herself. She had a strict “no visitors” policy for the first week of any hospital stay, because she did not want anyone to worry about her if she looked too sick or too weak. She always asked everyone outside of her immediate family to wait until the second week, so she could sit up and talk and joke with them. She wanted them to see that she was going to be okay.

When she was a teenager, Sarah told everyone not to send her any balloons or flowers, because it would be too much trouble for her mom or dad to carry to the car when it was time to go home. Any balloons that she received and any flowers that were still alive, Sarah passed on for other children to enjoy.

Sarah wanted her family to have as much fun as possible and — when she was able — she was the catalyst and planner of many family activities, especially once the “almost empty nest syndrome” was setting in. At least once a month, Sarah said, “It’s time for a night out,” and picked a restaurant in Philadelphia or at the shore or in Bridgeton and they made a night of it. In spite of her nutritional problems, Sarah really enjoyed good food. She could tell you the difference between a dozen different kinds of lettuce and always appreciated it when a restaurant really understood a good salad.

Sarah often thought it was more important to take the animals to the vet than it was to take herself to the doctor. She was always “in tune” with her pets and did all that she could to keep them well and happy.

In high school, when a friend was having a difficult time at home, Sarah asked the family to make room for one more. She wanted her friend to have a comfortable place to stay and the support of an extended family. From September to June, Sarah shared her home, her room, her closet and herself to make her friend’s life a bit easier. This was typical of her thoughtful concern and love for others.

Ironically, Sarah herself was not always able to attend classes and she could not finish with her class at Bridgeton High School. She had to be creative in completing her education. She actually designed her own program by taking courses at Cumberland County College, which could be arranged to fit her home-care schedule, and then she convinced her guidance counselor and the principal that college courses were good enough for high school credit.

After Sarah lost almost an entire year of school to her surgery and illness, she decided to take the high school equivalency examination. She had to convince Bridgeton High School to certify her for the exam without taking their previously mandatory prep course to be sure she was ready. Of course, she passed.

Sarah spoke to the admissions officers at Hollins University in Virginia to make sure that a G.E.D. would be acceptable before she gave up on the more traditional route. She chose Hollins because they are known for their writing program and Sarah knew that she wanted to develop her writing skills. The fact that the school has an Olympic-class equestrian program helped finalize her decision.

While she was at Hollins, Sarah infected others with her adventuresome spirit and took friends into the countryside so they could see the sights in the mountains. She wanted to make sure that they knew that all mountains didn’t look like Tinker Mountain, which formed the backdrop for their college.

Sarah knew where to find the butterflies and took people there so they could see them, too. When she was a small child, she amazed us with her ability to “catch” butterflies by simply standing and waiting for the butterflies to land on her hands.

Sarah would look at a map for no more than a minute and then she would go. She said, “Maps are a help, but there’s no substitute for just getting out there and doing it.”

That was how Sarah lived her life. She asked Mom or Dad some questions or she found instructions in a book or on the internet and then she just did it. Her little fish tank, which was first set up just for the amusement of Susan’s cat, turned into a self-maintaining ecosystem as Sarah learned more about how to create the right balance of fish and plants.

Her interest in astronomy led her to explore the heavens with a telescope that she researched carefully, of course, before the purchase to make sure that it was “just right.” Not too expensive, but not something that she would outgrow too quickly.

Because she had so much trouble finding good information as a beginner, Sarah decided to establish a web site dedicated to helping other novice astronomers in a non-intimidating environment. This is not as easy as it may sound. Sarah could now teach you as much about internet web page HTML coding and design as she could about astronomy. Go to her site and see what she created and consider all that she had to know in both disciplines to share her knowledge with others. [Unfortunately, we were unable to maintain Sarah's web site.]

Sarah did not want her illness to rule anyone’s life — least of all her own. She did not want anyone to drop anything and run when she was sick, because — as she put it, “Everyone has their own problems and they don’t need mine, too. They have things to do and this is what I do. That’s all.”

Ultimately, Sarah did have to give up on her dream to become a surgeon. This was a dream that was shaped by the many medical people who touched her life. It was a sad day when Sarah realized the futility of the effort, because — in Sarah’s words —she would run out of days before she ever did anyone any good.

Sarah simply adjusted her goals and made a simpler life centered around her family and things that she could enjoy at home. She had plans to start an internet business, because she thought she could do it all from home. But – as was typical for Sarah – this was not something to be taken lightly. She started taking college courses on-line. Naturally, she decided to start with Marketing so she knew how to get people interested in her product. She got an “A”. The second semester, she took Business Law to learn what she could and could not do. The textbook was almost as heavy as Sarah was. She had to put off a visit with her cousins just last week, because they wanted to come at “crunch time” on the night before her final exam. She knew that she was always with the family on Christmas Eve and they would be together soon. She got an “A” in the course. Sarah got an “A” in life.

The Wish List

This list of wishes was compiled by the family and included in the funeral ceremony.

~ THE WISH LIST ~

Sarah, we wish we had you back.

We wish you had no more pain.

We wish you could get up on a horse and ride, strong and free again.

[SARAH HAD A WAY OF NAMING HER “THINGS” SO THEY WOULD
SEEM MORE LIKE HER FRIENDS. “ABIGAIL” WAS HER CAR.]

We wish you could spend a whole day waxing and polishing Abigail
so you could take her off on yet another adventure.

But don’t hit any deer.

We wish you could finish knitting that sweater
so you could move on to another pair of socks.

We wish you could feed your gecko and the fish
that you bought for your cat’s amusement.

We wish that you had the time in your life
to become a surgeon, like you wanted to.

We wish you were here to sit and talk with us.

We wish that the recliner was not empty at nights.

We wish you had not had so many friends in your life lose the fight
against this awful disease.

We wish you could see the Sixers play again - with parking.

We wish that you could help Dad and the guys finish up this album.

We wish you were here to take care of the cats.
Nobody understands them like you do.

We wish that you were here to decorate the Christmas tree
that you left the hospital to choose and take home.

We wish that all the people who will never see you again could know the reason why.

We wish you could have another lobster or enjoy a nice steak.
And steam us some crabs. Or eat some “Speedies.”

We wish you could tell Pancho to stop calling you Richard.

We wish we could hear you play your guitar or the piano.

We wish we could see you in another school play.

We wish that your life left more time for school instead of
your being too sick to follow your dreams.

We wish that people knew how determined you were.

We wish that people knew how much you taught yourself,
just because you had a desire to know.

We wish that you could stay up all night to look up to the stars
and show us those things we never saw before.

We wish that you could see Mercury “for sure.”

We want people to go visit you at [your web site].
We will see you every time we look up to the heavens above.

We wish you were here to see your grade on the final exam in
Business Law that you took last week.

We wish you could take a hundred more final exams.

We wish that your online classmates and friends could get to meet you.

We wish that people knew how much you helped other families in Children’s Hospital
when they were just learning that their baby has cystic fibrosis.
You gave them real hope when they thought they had none.

We wish we could see you smile again and
we wish we could still see you make other people smile.

We wish we could talk with you about what comes next.

We wish you were here to be our friend.

We wish you could go to Iceland and ride the horses in the mountains.

We wish we could hear you laugh.

We wish more people could have heard your laugh.

We wish you could sit in front of the TV and just do nothing together with us.

We wish that Susan could still call you every five minutes.

We wish you could make us a nice pot of soup.

We wish you were going to see your flowers bloom.

We wish you had a chance to meet Billy Number Three.

[Sarah’s laptop computers were named Billy and Billy 2.
Billy 3 was to be a Christmas present this year.]

We wish you learned to drive a stick shift.

We wish that other people took their salad seriously the way that you did.

We wish you could go to the zoo and see the polar bears.

We wish you could feed the ducks.

We wish you could go to Australia and see everything
that you were so interested in.

We wish that you could go up into the woods of New York every year from now on
and turn it into another really unexpected adventure.

We wish we saw the world the way you did.

We wish you could still tell Dad how to run the office.

We wish that you could stop into The Bean for another cup of coffee with Nate.

We wish that we could hug you and hold you again.

We wish that you could write another poem.

We wish that you could share more of Nate’s poems with him.

We wish you would still be here to be Aunt Sarah.
We cry for the children who will not meet you.

We wish we could go to a star party with you.

We wish you had more “good kite days.”

We wish we had more time.

We wish you could wear your new shoes.

We wish that you could go skydiving again.

We wish we could call you at three in the morning, just because we can’t sleep.

We wish we could see you open your Christmas presents.

We wish you put labels on the presents you already wrapped for everyone else.

We wish we could have taken that trip across the country with you.

We want people to know how you loved and cared about every living thing.

We want people to know that you grew and grew your hair even though sometimes
you really wanted to cut it, so you could donate it to “Locks of Love”.

We want people to know that you never took your flowers and balloons home from the hospital,
but you always left them for the children who didn’t get any flowers or balloons.

We want people to know how you always answered, “Great,” whenever they asked
how you were feeling, no matter how bad you really were.

We want people to know how you simply accepted that CF was part of your life
and you always thought that others had more problems than you did.

We want everyone to know how you always found the good in people and how you really developed
a special and unique relationship with each and every person in your life.

We wish there were more Sarah Ann’s in the world.

We wish that you were still in the world.

We wish we had you back.

May your strength, courage, and perseverance inspire those attributes in ourselves to help us through this difficult time.