And tonight nothing but memories.

[roseembolism]

I remember Alex's brilliance. The hilarious stories about his life he would share. His courage and wit and all the other things that make him Alex. And remembering them, writing about him, the numbness that I had earlier breaks, and the tears come.

Later there will be time for helping, or for giving toasts, or for whatever can be done. But tonight, there's just memories. Remembering and grieving and missing Alex.

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