Please Post Your Message To Anna Or Your Condolences For Anna’S Family, Friends, And Loved Ones.

I miss you. It’s been 442 days- and still, not a day passes that I don’t think about you. Some days, I honor you by remembering you through prayer or journaling. Other days, I share your story with others. Often, I reach out to Kevin. Sometimes, I bring flowers to your grave and sit and talk to you for an hour. It all still makes me cry like a baby.

  I went on a trip to Kauai in May. Kevin told me that Kauai was a special place for you all. Your grandparents lived on the island until you were 12. And, in those years you would visit them at least once a year. I brought your ashes back to the island, to help you see this very special place once again.

  There was something special about the island. Pura Vida was everywhere. You were everywhere. I saw you in everything and in everyone. There were a lot of blonde hair, blue-eyed kids in Kauai. But I never saw them. I saw you. It was painful. But, at the same time, it was incredibly beautiful. I’ve never experienced something so bittersweet in my life.

  I’ve always wanted a daughter when I’m ready to have kids. But, after this trip, I’ve realized how badly I want one. When the day comes, I’m going to name her Anna. She’ll be named after the most warm, kind, and LOVING soul I have ever met.

  I LOVE you, Anna. You may have been with me every day for 442 days, but you’re not going anywhere. So, brace yourself. Because, you’ll be with me until the day we meet again- in the Kingdom of Heaven.

All My LOVE,
Drew

Do you remember that time we went for a bike ride around San Marino in the summer of our sophomore year of high school? After riding for hours, and laughing at your experience doing a summer program at UCLA, we turned the corner of some small street off of Huntington, and we saw a young boy cutting his front lawn with pair of kitchen scissors. We both stopped biking and just watched for a little bit before you asked him, “do you need any help?” and the boy turned around and so honestly responded, “no thanks, my mom is making me cut the grass to learn a lesson.” We both kind of nodded and kept biking, but when we went around the bend of the street, out of sight, we just started busting a gut. I remember when we got home, we were both still in absolute stitches. I have never laughed so hard with you in my entire life. I think about that every time I bike to school. I’m so grateful to be able to have made that memory with you. I miss you so much Anna.

The other day I was cleaning my room at school and I found the spool of yarn I used to knit my mini sweater. Anna, do you remember when you Mariko, and I took knitting classes at Abuelita’s? We were so excited because we found these patterns for miniature sweaters, but didn’t even know how to knit! So, we signed ourselves up for those ridiculously priced classes and were on our way. After classes ended on Tuesdays(?), we made the short, but amusing walk down to South Pas. I still remember looking at our teacher with huge eyes because I couldn’t figure out how she casted on so quickly. To this day, I still can’t cast on the way she did. Afterward, we loved our post-class Buster’s. The three of us would just sit and talk about the frustration of working with tiny needles and thin yarn. I remember dropping those double-pointed needles constantly. I miss our little knitting parties and I wish we had many so many more sweaters. Love you always.

Fred Conrey, Kathy’s father, passed on March 4th 2013. He only knew me and Anna a few years but he had a powerful influence.

In his honor, tonight which would have been Fred’s 86th birthday, I had trout. Fred loved fish both to catch and to eat.

Kathy reminded me that Fred’s last conversation with her was all about Anna!  Incredible.

I’m sure they are hanging out together in Angel land.

I found the place where you made that leap. I love remembering how you described that moment as a highlight of your life until then…and perhaps even now.  Sublime.  Everytime I take a leap I remember you.

And oh yeah the nearby sangrias on the beach were delish…

Your mother from that summer of 2017 is truly an angel. She told me I said “lo siento” a lot for my weak Spanish just like you did back before you were fluent. I cried when she described the tear coming down your cheek the summer of 2014.