There is not much from twenty years ago I remember well. Those days were fleeting, hazy. But I remember that night in your kitchen.

We were not much older than kids. You held my hand and wouldn't let go. Ten fingers interlacing my five. Your arm tucked over mine, tight. Your blond hair dancing over your shoulder. The sparkle in your eyes. Your endearing smile. The way you laughed as you led me around, like a puppy, talking to friends and people we knew.

It was so sweet,

  so innocent.

I often wondered what would have happened if I had been a bigger, braver, better person. Would things be different now? Would you still be around?

But it wasn't meant to be. Our paths went different ways, with disparate twists and turns. Sometimes joyful, sometimes full of sorrow. 

Occasionally they would cross, with the group on Mass, at someone else's special occasion, or lost downstream on some wild misadventure. But never again would they intertwine so sweetly, so innocently, like that night in your kitchen.

If I could trade my path for yours, I would. If I could endure your hardships, I would. Just so that you could be here again, surrounded by friends, your family, and living life again.

So all I have left is a prayer that you are at rest and at peace.

A prayer and an indelible memory, of that night in your kitchen.

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[ [ Hey Shannon, I know it's been ages since we’ve hung out, but before you go I want to tell you how special and great you are! And I'm glad to have been one of your many friends. Let’s catch up sometime, OK? ] ]

I moved to Lawrence in 2003. From Italy. I knew nobody there. But I found a place that allowed the weird part of me to feel comfortable writing in my journal: The Jayhawker. You know, those silly things you write when you're young(ish). And that's where I saw Shannon for the first time. She was just a face in the crowd. But she caught me. And at the Jayhawker there were so many beautiful souls: like Jenny, and Sarah, and Regan, and so many more. So much so that I started hanging out with them, in LFK. And I started seeing more of Shannon. And then I moved to Austin. And then Jenny told me she was moving to Austin too. With Shannon. This is all not important. What's important is that in Austin I had the chance of knowing Shannon in a way that was... foreign. You always know people best when you're away from your place of origin. And Lawrence felt like it, but Austin... we were all away from home. What made home was KU Bball. Now this: Friday March 23 2012. KU was playing NC State. That was a close game, if you can remember. We all watched it, Jenny, and Shannon, and I, and other friends. The final minutes were a heart stopping drama. I was sitting on the couch. Shannon was sitting in front of me on the floor. Our hands in an embrace hoping for a win. ... We all know how it ended. But it doesn't matter. That moment was happiness. It still is.

In the summer 2012 I moved to Ann Arbor, Michigan. Every year, for many KU games, I texted Shannon. And Jenny. And they always texted back. Rock Chalk mothafuckahas! Jenny, and Shannon... our bond. So, this is just a minor story in Shannon's life. I have no call in the important stuff that y'all are sharing, like childhood, or secrets, or... I just am happy that I saw Shannon in Lawrence, and I became her friend in Austin, and we carried on in Ann Arbor. Rock Chalk mothafuckahs. Forever.

Summer 2015. East 6th. Yes. What you told me. Thank you.