When I started this journal, my intention was to focus on my Peace Corps experience; I vowed to keep all the personal details out of it. However, I think I would be remiss if I did not say something of the events that have passed as of late.
Written March 28th.
I remember one time Kate asked me to describe her in one word. I told her that I would think about it and get back to her. Kate, my answer is this, there is absolutely no one word to describe you. Twenty-nine is the best I can do.
Sincere. Kind. Radiant. Brilliant. Sweet. Gorgeous. Understanding. Peaceful. Friend.
Passionate. Motivated. Unfaltering. Strong. Smiley. Intoxicating. Comfortable. Patient. Donga Woman.
Trust-worthy. Shining. Happy. Petite. Centered. Grounded. Honest. Joyous. Undeniably Kate.
I imagine that it’s taken me until now to write something about Kate because I, in some way, think that if I will it to be so, I can just undo all the events of the past two weeks—rewinding life to a time when I could hear her laughing and see her smiling. The truth of the matter is that I still can’t really comprehend how someone so full of life and love and beauty could have possibly left us here alone. And so, I am forced to believe in the righteousness of the world. I’m forced to believe that Kate isn’t truly gone. I forced to believe that because we knew Kate, even if only for the briefest of moments, we will live life a little better and love a little harder and see beauty more often because we were touched by her—and in this sense, Kate is never gone.
I miss you.