Post Script: For a Friend

 Goodbye, Miriam.

I remember our last Commons breakfast. The end of your first year, the end of my last year in New Haven. I told you (and Eunju - and Christina?), "four years pass so quickly. Years from now, this moment will be a vague memory. If you remember me, I'll be 'that guy who was around' your freshman year."

That was true, and it wasn't. A decade sped by, but our friendship and conversations continued, from New Haven to Beijing, LA, DC. I got to witness a time-lapse portrait of your convictions as they sharpened and realized. They took form and touched the world around you: in your activism, your allyship, your breaking ground to make sanctuary for those who need it.

You were passionate, kind, and generous, and only became ever more so. "Generous" in many ways: your words and presence. The way you spent your time. The passions you chose to pursue. They'll continue to bear fruit for so many hungry for truth and freedom. I've seen your work, and work that bears your fingerprints, bleed into view from across the country. It was always deeply-rooted, thoughtful, caring. As you were.

As you are, even now, somewhere.

The next time I see you, I'll shout: "Miriaaaaaaaaaam Chooooooooooooo." You'll mirror back: "Jason Chuuuuuuuuuu." We'll have a lot to talk about, and we'll have plenty of time to talk.

Rest well, sister.