A friend of mine died last week. She was 34.

I am 34. My human brain cannot comprehend this.

I can call her phone. I can text. I can hit reply to her email.

I cannot talk to her. I cannot walk with her.

How I Remember JW

Lunchtime walks in Madison Square Park. Nighttime eating in Chinatown. Lunch plans being made right after breakfast.

Shopping and trying on dresses. Always too long on her - too short on me. Blue. She loved the color blue.

Her banana bread - sometimes with chocolate chips, sometimes not. Cooking classes we never took together. Seaweed snacks stashed in her desk I could never grow to like.

In the audience at my improv shows. Even when they sucked, I

could hear her laughing.

Traveling in a car, on a bus, talk of traveling abroad together. Always planning her next trip.

A pink glass beaded bracelet around her wrist. For luck in love, she said.

I was the lucky one.

To have someone so loving in my life.

Thank you for giving me more than four years of friendship.