Stephanie Wertz Memory

by expressionstutor
Last updated 8 years ago

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Stephanie Wertz Memory

Dear Steph, I believe you are out there - that is the step that I have taken this year. In faith, and in my memory, you exist. I hope your year was filled with happiness, somehow, as happy as you can be in a different world. What's it like? I wonder, if the eeriness that you searched for on your adventures with Entity Seeker, is even a hint of the truth. In my research thus far, it is only parts of Buddhism that make a scintilla of sense to me...perhaps, you are in another body, somewhere.I think I had your spirit with me, when I left the evil corporation for my own business, when I left one field, to pursue dreams of another. When I realized that life is short, and that following passions is the only attribute that separates greatness from the ordinary. I could hear your optimistic voice, always cheerful, always encouraging me to follow dreams, to laugh in the face of adversity. This year will be a year of adventures for me, moving to England, studying my passions, and become who I have always wanted to be. Perhaps I will write that novel you always told me to start.I hope you can somehow know how we are all doing, way out here. How the only positive we can find, is that we have become closer, your family, your friends and I, in sharing our memories of you. I read Albert Camus' L'etranger (The Stranger) both in its original French, and in English, a month ago. Camus was a philosopher who ridiculed humankind's attempt to search for meaning, for rationality, in an irrational universe. That is perhaps a message that we should hear more often; life does not make sense, and neither does death. We search for why, but maybe we need to accept. "Come what may, time and hour pass through the roughest day" - Shakespeare's words are too hopeful, I fear, because time does little to erase your absence, nor dull its pain. I wish you were here to read this, to be with us, to go to the art gallery, to go for brunch, to go for coffee, and to drink lattes at Bogani cafe, as it changes hands likely another ten times in the next ten years.Steph, we all love you. And as eerie as this seems, the week that I was in London last April, my future home, my last roommate (the honest one), and Kiara, heard footsteps in the night, above my room. Kiara didn't bark - which seems impossible - and she only perked up and ran to my bedroom door, trying to see who it was. There were no footsteps on the outside porch stairs, just somehow, in my room, so loud that my roommate thought there was an intruder. There was no one at the front house door; it remained locked. Footsteps, just for a minute , and then, they left, disappeared. I was an ocean away, so I can't put too much faith in the story, but maybe, on a leap of faith, it was you? Sapna

The Irish proverb says it best:Death leaves a heartache no one can healLove leaves a memory no one can stealIn my heart, Steph, you will live forever and my locket will forever dangle around my neck, to remember our friendship. Requiescat in pace.



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