Sandra Joy Storch

Sandi, Bob and I first met when my husband Mark and I hosted a gathering to make fermented vegetables at my house. Two things were abundantly clear that night. 1. Dear Sandi, You Ferment for me! (One of you will surely know the melody to this old standard!) 2. You were so good at the cultured veggie thing that forevermore, in our household, you became known as "Sauerkraut Sandi." To add to my adoration, or add icing to the cake, or hot chilis to the Kim Chi, you and Bob were fermenting vegetables you had grown yourselves and spicing them up with POTENT PEPPERS! Such fine cooks!! Turkey soups, home-made bread, gorgeous abundant salads spiced with wonderful stories about travels, family funnies, and being a lactation consultant for years with the WIC program. We spoke in Spanish together ~ just because we could and both of us wanted to stay in practice. I enjoyed every minute for the too short time I knew you, Sandi... from hikes you showed this newbie to the Bay Area, to the Frankenstein Ballet in San Francisco with you and Debby, to noon-time concerts at Berkeley's Music Theater, you showed me places I never would have found on my own. Thank you. We savored dinner together at our home in January 2020, and watched a movie. Over dessert, you talked about something that was off in your body. Some mysterious malady that took you over at unbelievable speed. For me, the shock of it was the second worst part. The first worst was you not wanting anyone but Bob and family around you for those last months. I missed being able to tell you how much I valued our time together and offer comfort and a fond farewell. Unequivocally, I HATE CANCER! May you be dancing with star wranglers, dear Sandi. May your soul be soaring with angels who love Rock 'n' Roll. May you return to this wild weird wonder-filled world to share the wisdom you've gathered over many lifetimes, and may I recognize you, and may you recognize me so we can take up where we left off -- hiking, walk/talking, enjoying cultural outings and remembering how You Ferment for Me... I was meant for you, my Sauerkraut Sandi friend. (Wishing I could print the musical notations and lyrics for that oldie. Love you, dear friend. Dear Max, Jeremy, Mike, and Bob, and all the dear ones gathered for Sandi today, Thank you for nurturing the beautiful soul Sandi so we could all benefit from the gifts she brought to the planet. Radiant, open face, thoughtful converser, intelligence off the scale, and a sense of humor that was contagious. Sandi's kindness to others was inspiring. She seemed to see the human inside every person she met and offer them dignity, respect, and a curiosity that drew them out. I witnessed, as we walked one day across the Berkeley campus, how sensitive she was to a man who appeared to be without a home. She offered up food and some bills with grace and one of those genuine beaming smiles, as if it were the most natural thing to share what she had with another human who was down on his luck. Ah, I learned so much from your mom, your partner, your sister, your aunt. One fine summer day, about four years ago, when nephew Zachary was visiting, Sandi, Zach, my granddaughter Devlyn and I went to the Lawrence Hall of Science. It took us quite a while to get inside, because Zach and Devlyn were having such immense fun climbing on the five foot tall, fifty-foot long DNA replica and gigantic whale outside on the front patio. We must've spent a good thirty to forty minutes cheering on the climbers, who were about eight-years-old at the time. Sandi and I were having interstitial conversations in between the cheering on Aah. EVERY time with Sandi was a GREAT TIME! Much love surrounding you this day as you recollect your own stories and share them. So much of healing is about finding meaning in what seems so meaningless. My guess is that each of you was loved by Sandi in some unique and character-building way. Her focus was always somewhere just beyond the mundanity of this world and hooked onto something just over the horizon... some star or essence unknown was guiding her on to share a perspective that we are much more than we think we are. We are Stardust, We are Golden... and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden (Joni Mitchell). May you be well. May you remember your time spent with Sandra Storch. May you manifest your dreams - knowing there's a little angel on your shoulder with the most radiant smile a human could hope to have. Goddess speed on your healing, All. May She hold you in the hollow of her hand. With Loving Hugs, Melinda Maxwell-Smith