Dear Danni,

More than a year has passed since you left the world.  Your obituary is gone from the local news paper.  Your room is occupied by a young grad student and your former roommate has packed and gone to Chicago to continue her work as a biologist and farmer.   It would seem to be a good time to let you go now.  Although I came late to the story of Danielle maybe I should move on?

I hold in my possession just a few of the things you left and only a thin piece of other peoples memories about your time in this world.   But Danielle your death triggered a chain of events that greatly effected my life.  We hold a very near and dear friend in common.   People who know little of you, know you from my writings now and they know just how my life will never be the same.

I cooked once for the caterer you once cooked for.  I heard your name muttered quietly in the back kitchen; "If only Danni were here", or "Danni would love that."   I meet more and more the people you used to hang around with.  I jog down the streets you used to jog, walk across your old living room and smell the same smells of spring you did as they waft through your room.  Your friends use your car now and it's still parked out front of the house from time to time.  Plants you used to own still grow here where you used to live.  You somehow can't be gone from this world entirely as things you arranged remain in the same familiar pattern.

Sleeping at night just across the hall from your old room, your ghost does not haunt me Danni, but images of your life do.   I own the picture called "The Hug" which you held so dear.  I see you, through others eyes, running down the hill, playing the guitar, smiling in the sun.  Your picture may be gone from the fridge, your guitar from the bedroom, and your body from this world, but I still look for you.  I still wonder and I still think how different things would have been with you still here.  I am in a strange place, not bemoaning your loss but being appreciative of your existence.  Usually when people meet they are, after all, both alive.  Yet we've never met in that sense.  I know you and wonder how things would have been had you known me.   

If you had lived longer, would we have ever met you and I?  Well, maybe in some way I guess we did meet.  It was a chance encounter.  I experienced you as a memory and you will only know me from what I tell others of you.  Maybe you are gone in some ways Danni, but I will always know you and be grateful for it.

Yours,

Russ