You made me laugh one day in study hall by singing the Backstreet Boys with attitude, and I was glad to find a kindred, someone who valued education but was just as serious about silliness.  Everyone talked of your laughter and charity.  I can only hope for such a legacy.

Your sister was my constant companion during the darkest time in my life. Her story and other events of that year made me aware of how brutal the world could be, but her friendship numbered among the things that made me up for the struggle. ("And I thought I wouldn't have to be / with you / a magazine.") When I wrote about angels eleven years ago, I was writing about her. She loves you so.

I know she has my back down here, and I hers, and maybe you could do the same for us up there.  For what it's worth, I asked my grandfather to look out for you, to "show you the ropes." I know that sounds ridiculous, but please forgive us the limits of our mortal understanding, and our imagining of what comes next.

Meanwhile, back here, I will remember you, and I will strive to honor you by continuing your good work.



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