We first met Myrna at a dinner party hosted by Sue and Reed Moyer, sometime in the latter ?80s, and that was the first of many wonderful and happy meals we shared with her. Myrna became a regular dinner gathering of the Moyers, Jon and Julie Jerome, and us, something which was a highlight of every month for us. A special treat was when the rotating venue of our dinners brought us to Myrna?s home. Not only were we assured of a delicious meal and company, but we also had a chance to enjoy the lovely and comfortable home she had created for Eric and herself. All who are reading the comments from friends will appreciate something that meant so much to us when we were with Myrna: her wonderful smile and ready laugh. One just couldn?t be gloomy when with her, and we all will miss her upbeat and cheerful company. We were reminded by Eric?s eulogy of the toll that was taken on Myrna when one of her patients committed suicide. Losing that patient hurt her deeply and the pain persisted for a long while. That evidenced her deep concern for others, not just her family and personal friends, but all those with whom she interacted. We will miss Myrna, but we do consider ourselves very fortunate to have known her and to have had her as a dear friend. We hope that Eric can be buoyed and supported for a long while by the realization that his mom was a beloved person in so many lives.

I met Myrna through friends in San Francisco in the early 70's. Myrna was visiting Guatemala when my sister became sick there. She took time out to visit her and my sister has never forgotten this kindness - they did not know one another beforehand. This is the kind of person Myrna was, if she could help you out, she would gladly go out of her way to do it. We've seen each other over the years, and especially enjoyed talking about our kids, Eric and Sara are 6 months apart. She was so proud of what Eric was doing with his life. I will miss this loving friend.

Myrna and I went to high school and college together. She was a good friend over the years. Even though we lived on opposite sides of the country, we managed to stay in touch, and learn about each other's lives. I will miss her dearly. Much love to Eric.

I have known Myrna since 1977, when she was referred to me for part-time work as a clinical social worker by her supervisor at Stanford, a colleague of ours, Cleo Eulau. She and her friend Jennifer Lezin were hired to see both children and adults for Family service Mid Peninsula in Palo Alto. They were both wonderful and talented clinicians. Myrna had spent a special year at Mount Zion, working with children. As we developed the children?s program at the agency; Myrna was later hired as the Director of Children?s Services. Her skill, love of children, management style and her ability to engage staff, helped the program grow and develop as a major treatment center for children in Northern California. She presented her ideas on behalf of the agency at several clinical conferences in the Bay Area. I remember when Eric was born. She had such a sparkle and lit up in each interaction with him. He was the light of her life and she was so proud of him as he became a young professional. Carla and I saw Myrna through the years at special events and gatherings with friends on the Peninsula. She joined several of us as a board member of the Sanville institute, a PhD program for mental health professionals. Her abilities were readily apparent, both in finances and in leadership roles. Her ability to focus, her commitment to quality and excellence was so apparent. She also became a Board of Trustee member of the Cleo Eulau Center. She became treasurer, leading the agency to higher levels of service. As a mentor, consultant, supervisor and teacher, she helped the agency assume its role as a key organization in the Bay Area. Her efforts helped the agency grow financially, programmatically, and lead to community recognition. Her interest in best practices, education and support of teachers brought a significant increase in funding to the agency. We have such respect and love of this wonderful woman; she will be missed by me, my family, friends and colleagues. We hope Eric will be part of us too in years to come.

Myrna and I met in 10th grade when we both started commuting, from our respective suburban towns, to Winchester-Thurston, a girls school in Pittsburgh. We wore uniforms, knee socks, plaid skirts and blazers, at school and I remember having to get Myrna's help in shopping for "real" clothes on the rare occasion when I needed them. When we went off to different colleges, we sometimes met in NYC where we could discuss the horrors of blind dates as well as issues in our families. Myrna's father's death was extremely traumatic for her and her relationship with her mother was sometimes stressful. I think the later was another reason she decided to move to CA. When Myrna visited her mother and relatives in Pittsburgh over the years, she frequently saw my mother as well - as we all know, it sometimes easier to talk to someone else's mother. At one point when Myrna was having problems dealing with her mother, she was so frustrated that she called my mother at her secretarial job to ask her what to do. My mother, knowing that Myrna was a successful psychotherapist, saw the humor in this situation and searched for some practical advice. We all three laughed about this incident for a long time. Myrna had a great sense of humor through all of the ups and downs of her life. I can still remember her wonderful laugh - which I had the joy of hearing during our many phone calls from 1962 until last Fall. She was a loyal, close friend whom I can now only talk to in my mind.

Myrna was my cousin and will always be my sister. I was a staircase behind her at Winchester-Thurston with an 8 year differance in age, but still teachers and older students would say with such respect, "You're Myrna's cousin?" Respectful comments would pop up all through the years; even on a small playground on Beacon Hill in Boston where another mother, a therapist from Palo Alto, knew of Myrna and was hoping to meet her one day - I hope she did! In our family history the Finkels and Klees were one and the same; the story goes: 2 Finkel brothers married 2 Klee sisters and then the parents married after their spouses passed. The sibling connection goes deep as Myrna's father, Dr. Eddie Klee, was our dad's (David Klee Finkel II) mentor and big brother. My dad talked about Eddie with such love and wanted to grow up and be just like him. Same thing for me with Myrna. I know Myrna looked to my mother, Elaine Finkel, as a guiding light and friend. And I hope the legacy continues with Eric being the big brother to Kirby and Mike. My heart has an empty place in it. I'm so keen to fill it with memories of Myrna. bj

Myrna was my friend for thirty years. We first met in LaMaze class in Palo Alto. Four of us who had our babies between Christmas Day and the beginning of January -- Myrna, Siv Modler, Andrea Stawitcke,and I -- met once a week for play group for over four years, until I moved back to Canada and the others went back to work. As working women who had our first children in our thirties, we knew that this period of our lives was precious. None of us minded putting our careers temporarily on hold. Nevertheless, we welcomed one another's support with the shared experiences of sleepless nights, nursing our newborns, teething and so on. Because we all had Christmas babies, our families got together for Christmas (a super birthday party) and for New Year's in those early years. When I returned intermittently to the Bay Area, the LaMaze moms would always get together. Just Myrna and I together also had some wonderful visits. I remember helping her measure the positions of the electrical outlets in the livingroom of her new house, which was at that point a construction site. I was impressed with her confidence as she examined the blue prints with the contractor and asked very direct questions. He didn't mess with her. She would take me to the "To the Trades Only" interior designers' shops in San Francisco, where I would wander as she selected fabric or furniture for clients. I loved those shops. She would drive up and down the steepest hills in SF, laughing as I gripped the dashboard. Five or six years ago, Myrna, my daughter, and I walked across Golden Gate Bridge together. This was a difficult walk for her (I won't go into details), but she did it, and then we went on to Sausolito for a nice lunch. I was staying with her about ten or eleven years ago, when I went with her to visit the doctor to get results after she had had her initial surgery and then follow-up tests that indicated that she was cancer-free. I wish that the tests this year could have said the same thing. Three of the four LaMaze moms were at my daughter's wedding in Toronto this past August. Andrea and Siv flew from Palo Alto. All three of us felt the lack of Myrna's presence, but by August she was just too ill to travel. I feel a sense of tremendous pity and waste that such a vital, intelligent, fun-loving woman has left us.

I so much enjoyed reading Linda Gray Sexton's obituary about Myrna Klee Robinson's extraordinary life. Having known Myrna quite well even before her move to San Francisco in 1969, I wanted to add a few "old" things to Linda's beautiful obituary. Myrna's father was a highly respected physician, an unusually loving and caring man, who truly graced the lives of all he knew. Her mother was a lovely, elegant woman who often charmed me with her skills as a pianist. Together, Myrna's parents created the home that bestowed upon their daughter a keen mind, a great intellect, cultural development, a warm and loving heart, and a zest for life. It is no wonder that Myrna had such special gifts to pass on to her son, Eric. Myrna was graduated from the Winchester-Thurston School in Pittsburgh, and long after leaving Pittsburgh for Vassar College and then San Francisco, Myrna maintained very close ties with family and friends in Pittsburgh. She visited her Pittsburgh friends and her Pittsburgh relatives until almost all of them had died, and still visited the few surviving ones until her health prevented her from traveling. She made special trips to Pittsburgh to visit her family's long-time housekeeper in her declining years. Indeed, Myrna's connection and commitment to those she loved knew no bounds. I suspect that all of us reading these tributes to her feel very lucky, indeed.

The Klee and Shoag Family had been friends for many years. Sylvia, Myrna's mother, and my mother, Ida Levin Shoag were Sorority Sisters at the University of Pittsburgh, if I remember correctly, and gratuated in 1929. I knew Myrna back in the late'50's when our families would see each other at Baldock Hills Country Club. Myrna was always a sensative and wonderful human being. We will always remember her fondly and lovingly. With great sadness I say "Goodby dear friend."

I am Myrna's cousin, five years her junior, and remember her from my earliest recollections as a child growing up in Pittsburgh. At family events she was the one who I looked up to as the model of what a teenage girl should be - beautiful, charming, mature and with an enthusiasm and great sense of humor. These qualities continued to define her persona throughout her adult years. Later, I would visit and sleep on the couch in her SF apartment and she did the same in my place in Boston. We would talk way too late into the night and Myrna was always one to give me her little look and say "now Richard" when I would tease her or bring up something absurd. What I never appreciated until her illness became more advanced was how brave Myrna could be in the setting of not being in control of one's destiny, yet still managing to have that joy for life that so characterized her. I miss her dearly.

I so wish I had known Myrna for many years, and love reading about her through the eyes of those of you who have known her throughout her life. I met Myrna a few years ago when she and her friend M.J. set up a lunch to talk about Collaborative Divorce. Myrna was drawn to this work, as I think she was drawn to other endeavors in her life; she was truly committed to making this world a better place, and was willing to try new ideas toward that end (and she was filled with so many innovative ideas!). I will be ever grateful that I had the chance to spend time with such an exceptional woman, and I will be forever sad that I won't have the chance to work side-by-side with her in years to come.