Dear Editor:

Hoboken cannolli lovers are in shock at the sudden, unexpected, mysterious closing of Cosmo's bakery. What's up Coz? Why must you deprive us like this? Did we do something wrong? Are you mad at us? We promise we'll be good! Don't punish us like this! But with all due respect, Cosmos was more than just a bakery: It was a hangout, in the best sense of that word. It was a place to meet your neighbors over a morning cup of coffee, a place where people knew your name.

Back in the late 1980's, I was newly-married and living in a Hoboken brownstone on Bloomfield street that was owned by my wife's parents - who lived downstairs. Every Saturday morning at 11:00, rain or shine, my father-in-law Gene would walk through the door with muffins and other assorted treats from Cosmos. On many of those Saturday mornings, my wife and I would join her parents for coffee downstairs. "Did you go to Cosmos?" my mother-in-law would ask expectantly, and Gene's answer was always yes. Though I've been divorced for several years now, and my mother-in-law has long since passed away, I'd like to honor those moments of connection we had: the stories told, the secrets shared, even the occasional arguments - all over coffee and fresh baked muffins from Cosmos.

A bakery like Cosmos can't help but be rooted in the fabric of a community, and even families. How many birthday parties, for example, have been graced by a Cosmos cake in the past? How many holiday gatherings were made complete by an apple or pumpkin pie from Cosmos, or a box of cannollis dusted with powdered sugar? For me, the holidays themselves have somehow become associated with Cosmos: the "fresh holiday pies," sign on the door, bigger crowds clustered at the counter, Cosmo himself moving more quickly and with a greater sense of purpose. All this could be taken in quickly from the street in passing, the scene blessed by the curling pink neon-glow of the "Cosmos Bakery" sign: piercing the wintry night with a warm blast of nostalgia. Could Cosmo be Hoboken's George Bailey, the Jimmy Stewart character in "It's a wonderful life" who never realized how much the community needed him?

In closing, thank you Cosmo for the cakes that made our parties more special, the conversations we had in your store and the countless friendly greetings you gave us in passing on the sidewalk (if you were in a good mood that day!) These blessings could only come from a man with a kind heart, a man who we saw is good to his parents: their steady presence helping at the bakery adding to its family-friendly atmosphere.

Thanks for the memories Coz, and lots of luck in whatever good work you do next.

John Bredin