dear aileen

Dear Aileen,

It is that time of year again—the season that always brought us together, the one we planned for with endless excitement. As the days get closer, I find myself reaching for the phone, ready to send you a message, only to remember that no one will answer. And that reality never gets easier. At night I look up to the sky to talk to you while I search for your bright shining star that I know to be yours.

I miss you, my friend. I miss the way we would brainstorm ideas, the way you could turn chaos into calm and help me stay balanced during an extremely stressful time of year. When I panic and think, how are we going to pull all of it off? And you would say, just like we always do. I miss our times of laughter—effortless, contagious, the sound of joy itself. The times when you pulled me down from a ledge and let me vent life and I let you do the same. This event, the one we poured our conversations into and dreamt of something impossible to feel so different now. It is missing a piece that no one else can fill.

The world keeps moving, people keep gathering, and yet there is this quiet space. I will carry your memory with me in every detail—the traditions we started, the goals we set forth, and the awareness we set out to make possible. And though you are not here in the way I wish you were, I know your part of it all. You will always be mind and spirit.

I will keep doing this, keep honoring what we built together, because that is what you would want. If I close my eyes for a moment, I can hear you saying “fantastic!” And when I see the joy we create in others’ healing journeys, I will remember that love never really leaves us—it just finds new ways to show up. Your energy and light still surround all of those you love. Your memory will illuminate through those we serve. Even if we cannot see you.

I miss you, my friend

Shay